Morning Reflection: 22

22

Many years ago, a relatively sane woman lost her mind. It was kind of tragic really. A college educated woman of sense, style and taste decided to throw away her good name, her reputation and a whole half of her bed. 

In a choice that was frequently deliberated and worried over, she decided to import her trouble from halfway across the world, immersing herself in a tidal wave of bureaucracy, paperwork and restrictions.

All in the name of…… Love?????

But this was no ordinary trouble that she had saddled herself with. Her co-workers questioned her judgment, sure that she was unwittingly playing a role in someone else’s ‘green card’ story. 

She had not known this man for long, and had not spent too many days in his company, and now she was inviting him into her home, her heart, her bank account and most importantly, her library!

Surely this was going to go wrong?

Yet she persisted in her folly, extolling his good qualities (or making them up) and proclaiming that this was indeed true love (or something close enough to be worth rolling the dice on). 

In a moment of extremely poor judgment she had agreed to a proposal, and found herself married to a crazy man who would make her life stranger than she could ever think it would be.

That was 22 years ago this week.

In that time she stuck by her crazy husband through the storms of life. Through births and surgeries, the passing of a parent, prerequisites, graduate school, beginning a career, the decade of despair and the new and terrifying adventure of starting their own practice. 

She provided direction, organization, wise counsel and a listening ear. She never nagged, or spoke with derision.

And he always knew that he was blessed, and lucky, to have her.

Holly and I celebrate 22 years of marriage this week. I can honestly say that I have tried every one of those years to be worthy of her. I fear I have failed miserably on far too many occasions, but she is gracious in her patience. 

I am aware that without her, I would be lost, probably amidst an ever growing pile of unfinished paperwork and uncompleted projects.

She is the other half of my soul. I have been whole now for 22 years, and I pray it will continue that way.

So today I write of the greatest blessing that any of us can find, which is to share our lives with someone who balances us, and helps us to find peace amidst the madness that is this world. 

If you have found that person, I beg you to hold fast to them. If you are still searching, I pray you the courage to keep looking, and that your search be successful.

May you find the happiness I have, and may it continue all of your days.

I love you Holly, Thank you.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: The invisible wound

The invisible wound.

What don’t you remember? The question is paradoxical, but it’s perfect for what I want to share with you today. 

Because a truth that I see realized over and over again is that we often forget the events that shaped our lives, because they were the absence of something we needed, rather than the presence of something we didn’t.

Silence or absence can be as destructive as presence, especially since we don’t see the missing piece because we didn’t know it belonged there in the first place. 

There are so many examples of this that I despair at the work in front of us; at the healing that has to take place in the hearts of those who endure in silence, unable to explain what is wrong, unaware that something fundamental was missing.

So they suffer and struggle, not understanding why.
I see this most abundantly in the child who for some reason did not form a close attachment to a parent, or parents. 

They persist in life, following what they see as the rules, trying to find a way to lessen the aching discomfort that plagues them in their quiet hours. Despite whatever happiness they are able to scrape together, there is the overwhelming whisper of the soul that will not be silenced or satiated.

The longing for a connection, an acceptance, a wholeness, for peace.

A good friend of mine is experiencing a very hard time right now. Lost in a hell not of their making, they are aware that something is wrong, that at their very core a fundamental shift needs to occur. But they are frightened by the painful scars that cover the wounds they do not even understand are there.

A pain that has been with them so long they do not recognize it as anything other than who they are.

Because they are wounds of absence and silence. The absence of closeness, of friendship, of vulnerable sharing, of someone who has seen to the heart of them, and still accepts them anyway. 

The absence is caused not by the outside world, but by the inner world of a heart, mind and soul that cannot open to others because of a fear of vulnerability, of showing weakness, of not being enough.

So my friend will not reach out yet, and I have to respect that, even though I wish it were not so.

Today, I invite you to try to see the things you might not remember. Start by examining the way you feel, and find within your soul the difficult and painful areas that you want to avoid. 

There you will find the pathway that leads to a wound that must be cleansed, even if you don’t know how or when it began.

You just need to begin your journey toward peace.

And I will walk with you.

—Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: Driftwood

Driftwood.

Sometimes life is like an ocean. It’s cold, dark, lonesome, and there just so much of it that you don’t know where you are going, or what is just over the horizon. 

Times where the waves seem so large, the wind so strong, and the pounding of the ocean so relentless that you just can’t imagine navigating another current, surviving another sea.

Abandoned.

You feel lost, alone, separated from all that you know, and find yourself eventually washed up somewhere different than you ever expected. A beach in life that you can’t seem to leave, and cannot understand how you ended up here. Others seem to walk by you, unaware of your presence, your pain, your suffering, your existence.

And you feel like driftwood.

As you try to find a moment of rest between the peaks and troughs of the never ending tides, you struggle to move forwards, wondering if time, life, the universe or anyone will be there to notice your journey. 

You lose faith in the things which were your lodestar, and find yourself drifting without direction, vision or destination.

Just another beach, different sand, another day.

As hope fades with the passing of each wave, you feel yourself wrapped not in a cloak of invisibility, but anonymity, where you are seen, but no one cares enough to know your name. 

The world rushes on without you, and you wonder why you ever thought that anyone cared. It’s almost easier to believe that, and give up on the hope that has sustained you through the darkest nights, the toughest storms, the deepest waves, the hardest times.

It’s so easy to give in, and just be driftwood in the ocean, washed alone on sand.

I am here today to ask you to believe again in yourself. 

For you have beauty, and worth, and grace and value. While the current may not be taking you places that you wish to go, there are still choices you can make of your destination. 

Although you cannot necessarily choose the sand upon which you are washed, you can choose to understand how you will always be noticed for the gifts you carry within you, and the kindness you radiate around you.

You can believe in you, and that will carry you where you need to be.

(For Pamela, who will always be noticed and always more than she believes.)

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: Faith in what you don’t know

Faith in what you don’t know.

What do you believe in? No, don’t raise your hand, just keep the answer to yourself. Maybe it’s your faith in God, or your belief in reincarnation, or your belief in Karma. 

Whatever you believe in, today I’m going to ask you to believe in something that you might not have considered before.

Having faith in what you don’t know.

The longer I’m alive, the more things I find to challenge my beliefs in just about everything. Yet I’m also finding that I have faith in things that I have no idea about. Because in this crazy universe, there are so many things that we don’t understand, and things we don’t even know about that we don’t understand either.

Do I sound crazy yet? Keep going, I’m sure I’ll get there.

Three hundred years ago, if you had tried to explain to people that one cause of sickness was an organism, a life form, that was so small you couldn’t see it, people would have laughed at you, yet it was true. 

Imagine trying to explain to people back then that everything in your body was coded in your DNA, an organic datafile in your cell so small that we can’t see it. How do you think you would have been treated?

Straightjacket maybe…or worse! Yet both of those were true, and these truths have improved our lives.

As a Doctor, I am haunted by the realization that 200 years into the future, someone is looking back at me like I am an idiot, and trying to understand how I could be so ignorant as to miss a wonderful truth that to them is so self evident, and yet for me is a mystery.

But it doesn’t have to be that immense, it can be smaller things. I was born almost 5000 miles away, and at the time of my birth, if you had mapped out the way my life has turned out, people would have laughed at you, and said it was too fantastical to be true. 

Yet things which were unseen, and unthinkable, came to pass, and here I am.

Writing on a laptop that was unthinkable, connected to an internet that was unimaginable, so far away from home as to be unfathomable to me at that time.

Blessed with a wife and 2 boys who give so much joy and meaning to my life. 
It’s incredible and I didn’t know any of it.

So now, I’m learning to have faith in the things that I can’t possibly know. If you want you can call this optimism, but I choose to feel that it is more than that. 

The deeper I study into meditation, quantum physics and the power of intention, I am awed and amazed by the power that faith/intention has in this universe.

My belief that there are things that as yet completely unknown to me, and yet so great for me, allows me to invite them into my life, and by the very power of that intention help them manifest into being.

So today, don’t just have faith in what you know, spare a little faith for that which you don’t know.

Because it’s out there, and it’s going to be amazing.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: Breaking Binary

Breaking Binary.

How do you find peace after a binary conflict? How do you find a balance in a situation where there are only two possible outcomes, and your preferred outcome is never going to make the other side happy? 

What can you do when the situation creates so much tension, animosity and hatred that the very idea of peace seems impossible, and the only option seems to be a continuation of hostilities until one side destroys the other?

We seem to be heading in that direction faster than we can possibly imagine.

This weekend I witnessed two conflicts. One of words, ideologies, philosophies and principles. The other was a conflict of strength, endurance, technique and violence. Both contests were bloody, one figuratively, one literally, yet both led to more anguish, hatred and threats of revenge and further violence. 

Indeed in one of these, the possible violence after the first conflict took less than a minute to manifest.

And it will probably not end there.

So how do we change this? How do we reverse this suicidal pathway that we seem to be driving down at full speed, completely unaware of destruction that awaits us? What can we do, in our own way, that will find a pathway through for all of us that allows us to find peace and harmony?

The answer is in the title of this piece, and in the way I structured the first and third paragraphs. We have to break binary (where there are only 2 options), and become one. 

In the first paragraph I used words such as ‘you, only, other’, words that denote a separation in a binary sense. In the third paragraph, I used words such as ‘we, us, all’, words that indicate unity, togetherness, wholeness.

Because unless we learn that we are inseparably connected to each other, and that my victory at your expense is no victory at all, we will continue to struggle and escalate our wars of words into a conflict of chaos.

When WE become ONE, WE have to discover outcomes that find balance for EVERYBODY. When WE become ONE, WE have to care about EVERYONE involved in the equation. When WE become ONE, WE lose OUR addiction to winning, and instead find the opposite of winning/losing, which is sharing.

But to do that, we have to be willing to give up our need to be better, to have it our way, to ‘crush’ our opponents, to ‘win at all costs’. 

We have to find enough peace, strength, courage and love in our hearts that we can reach out to those who consider themselves our enemies and be open and honest with them, finding ways through the storms we all face.

Because if you don’t have peace in your heart, how can you expect to lead others to it?

You can find your peace in the absence of anyone else, if you have the courage to seek it. Then, you can share it with others. Only together can we bind up the wounds of our world, and become who we are supposed to be.

Together as one.

If this has touched you today, please consider sharing this post. Hopefully together we can help heal the disconnect facing all of us.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: Puppy Power

Puppy Power.

They’ve taken me over. Ever since I found this one live channel on YouTube, I’ve been taken hostage by the power of a cute nose, four paws and a tail that refuses to quit. 

In short, a whole screen full of the mayhem, insanity and absolute raw, unbridled energy that is a Labrador puppy. Never has anything quite so cute been capable of so much unintentional destruction.

The feed comes from the Warrior Canine Connection, an organization that raises and trains service dogs for Veterans. I love the mission of this organization, and how one dog can touch as many as 60 lives for the better. 

It’s magical to see these puppies from their birth to being ready to commence training. They are beyond cute, and knowing what they will accomplish in helping people just makes my heart sing.

And I just can’t stop watching. :)

There’s something about puppies that just make me go crazy, in a good way. I see those ears, and I just want to play with them. Their infectious enthusiasm makes me want to forget about everything and just jump into their playpen and go crazy with them. 

Their kindness and general lack of cruel intent encourage me to let down the barriers that we humans have developed, and just allow myself to return to the innocent state of being a child.

And that’s where I think their magic comes from.

Because their vulnerability and their innocence trigger something within us; cutting through the pain and the scars of age and experience, and piercing our souls to release the truth of who we were, and hopefully in some way still are.

Kindness, enthusiasm, energy, playfulness. Fun.

And I think so many of us have lost that inside of ourselves. Worn down by a world that can be cruel on any day, and absolutely vicious on a bad day, we seem to have lost our ability to return to our childlike state, and exist in a world of wonder and joy. 

The puppies seem to help me find a way back to that world, even though I don’t remember the way, and sometimes barely remember what it feels like.

So these puppies, who are being trained as service dogs, are already serving before they even know that it is they are about. They are leading me back to where I want to be.

Because in that state of wonder, I find the truth of who I am when all of my defenses are down. I remember that part of me that can accept another human being without requirement or judgment. 

The part of me that is not scared to share anything and everything in the cause of helping another. The deep well of compassion and caring that can so easily be covered by a need to protect myself at all costs.

It’s where I need to return time after time, so that I can connect with my passion, my power and my purpose, and find the humbling thrill and joy of living in childlike wonder and peace.

All I have to do to find myself there, is follow the puppies.

Leading me home.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: “You seem to have it all figured out.”

“You seem to have it all figured out.”

That’s what someone told me the other day. That since I write this page and seem to have an answer for everything, that I must have it ‘all figured out’. 

I stopped for a moment, and thought it through, because there were a lot of possible responses going through my head. Some funny, some brutally honest. I decided to settle on something truthful, but gentle.

“I wish” I replied quietly. “I wish’.

Because my life is far from perfect. It might look that way from the outside, and it might sound that way because I try to keep this work focused on you, rather than on me, but I will share this with you. 

The only way to gain wisdom is to have made a ‘lot’ of mistakes, and I’ve made them. So many it’s hard to count. 

Some I’m still paying for, and will be for probably a very long time. Both literally and emotionally.

Yet in the midst of all that I have done, I can look at some areas of my life with a small sense of peace. Some days I really have to focus very hard to find them, but they are there. I have a wonderful relationship with my children. I have a wife who loves me and stands with me and by me, despite the fact that living with me is not easy.

There are good things, if I struggle to remember them.

I think part of what has drawn me to this work, and the other work I do to help people, is because it allows me to re-frame experiences in my life, and to try to leave a better legacy than the one I feel I have left so far. 

If I can take a lesson from my mistakes, my experiences and my insights and share them with someone, then they were not all bad.

To steal a phrase from a movie “I’ve got a lot of red in my ledger, and I need to clear some of that out”.

I’m sharing this today because I don’t want any of you to labor under the false pretense that I don’t have bad days, or struggles, or times when I just want to sit quietly and do nothing. 

I have those days all the time. I still make mistakes, I still try to change things. If anything, the further I go in this work, the more I see people hurting, and the more I feel helpless.

There are so many people hurting right now. All I can do is try to lift where I can. 

So please don’t fall into the Facebook paradox, where you think that because I share the things that I have learned, that I knew these things before I was tested. Life doesn’t play that way. You get tested and then you learn the material afterwards. 

So if you are struggling right now, please know that there are so many people feeling the same. Struggling doesn’t mean you are a bad person, or that God or Karma or whoever has it in for you. It just means that you are human.

We all have struggles, and we all fall sometimes.

You just can’t stay down.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: You can, but you won’t.

You can, but you won’t.

It’s a hard truth, but a necessary one, especially if I’m going to help you become the person who will make you happy. Because truthfully, no-one else can make you happy. Not me, not your partner, your parents, your children, your friends, nobody. It’s all on you. Just you.

And that’s the terrifying responsibility of life.

There’s so many things you could do with your life. Things that will inspire you, terrify you, uplift and empower you. And the naked truth is that you can do these things, but you have chosen not to. 

Why? Well, that’s the question isn’t it. 

Why, when there is so much of life that can be changed, are you still sitting where you are, playing it small, and keeping your head down. Why, when you have so many possibilities to look forward to, are you wasting each day in a futile attempt to find a meaning in avoiding your purpose? 

You are never going to find unspeakable joy singing a song that wasn’t written for you.

The sad part is that your clock is ticking. It’s ticking with each breath, each moment, each choice. Every time you choose to be less than the very best you can be, you are dying a death of mediocrity, wallowing in a despair of your own choosing, waiting for the ending that you are so afraid of. 

The one where your story ends in screams of regret, knowing that your chance has gone, and gone forever. It all comes down to what you can do, but what you are not currently doing.

When I lost 140lbs, I found that I COULD lose weight, I just had to find a way to make it happen. 

When I jumped out of a plane at 13,000 feet, I discovered that I could face my worst fears, and retain my identity in a moment of terror. 

When I began writing, I found a voice that was always within me, but that I had never allowed to come forth. 

When I left a country, friends and family to marry the woman who owned my heart, I learned that sometimes, you find a person who is worth giving up everything for.

I never achieved any of these things by playing small, and safe, and easy. That’s not how you find yourself.

If you want to be happy, truly, madly and deeply satisfied, then you have to push yourself beyond where you are. Will it hurt? Probably, but not as much as you are afraid of. Will you be scared? Absolutely, but you’ll find courage that you never knew existed. Will you have times when you want to quit? Of course, but you’ll keep going anyway. 

You CAN do all of these things in your own life, but you have to start now, because that clock is ticking my friend, and time waits for no one. It never has, it never will.

It’s not about what you can do, it’s about what you are willing to do, and I can’t do it for you. I can help, but you’ve got to put in the work.

But it’s worth it. Really it is.

And so are you.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: Facing your problems together

Facing your problems together.

I wish we could sit down together, just you and I, and discuss your problems. I know you have them, we all do, it’s how you know you are still alive. If only I could remove all of them from you, and leave you free of heartache, pain, loneliness, fear and regret. 

I wish there was more I could do to lift you up every day, and help you through the troubles that beset you. 

That’s the whole purpose of this project, this work that has taken me over. I’ve been writing these reflections now for the past 10 months, and by my calculations, I’ve written over 200 pieces.

And it doesn’t feel like it’s enough, not even remotely.

In saying this, I don’t mean to tell you that I have the answers to all of your problems; believe me when I tell you I’m not that crazy. But if for no other reason, I would like you to know that someone cares, someone is listening, and someone wants to help. Maybe that’s all you need right now, to know that someone cares.

Because knowing that someone cares can change everything.

Yet I also realize that problems are really growth opportunities for us, chances to learn the lessons of eternity that we need in order to find a balance and a peace in this universe. 

It’s just that sometimes the problems come thick and fast, in some cosmic alignment designed to totally knock you down, and keep you there.

It’s often known as a divine storm (although there are other descriptions for it as well).

I’ve written before about trying to change my mindset during a particularly bad storm of trouble, asking myself, “How is this happening for me” rather than “Why is this happening to me”. 

Every time I remember to change my perspective, I find a lightening of the load and a clearer mind that can focus on solutions rather than self pity and sadness.

I’m also well aware that sometimes it’s hard to change your focus when you can’t see where your next step is, let alone the direction to chart through the storm.

So I’d like to help you.

Over the next couple of weeks, I’m going to make some time available for conversations with those of you who need a friend to talk to, or someone with whom you can discuss a problem, or even just someone to vent to. 

I’m a good listener, and honestly, I’m almost completely unshockable. We can just chat, and at the very least, You’ll know that someone cares.

But who knows, maybe we’ll find a direction together, or a new perspective, that can help you find some clarity or understanding as to how to move forward with whatever it is that bothers you.

If that sounds like something you’d be interested in, feel free to message me and we’ll see what we can do to make it happen. My time isn’t unlimited, but we’ll do what we can.

I am here for you. Honestly.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: The only language that you know

The only language that you know.

How was I upsetting my mother in law? Well, other than marrying her daughter (just kidding Mom), I was using a language foreign to her, and one that she didn’t particularly appreciate. 

We both used the English language, and it wasn’t that I was using dialogue that she found particularly offensive, or vulgar. The words we were using were the same, but I arranged them in a way that made her uncomfortable.

Because that way of speaking was the only dialect I knew, while she preferred a more compassionate expression.

She’s kind of wonderful like that.

When I came here from England, I spoke the tongue of sarcasm, and unnecessary bluntness. I could tell it bothered her, but that was the way that I was raised. I used to joke that sarcasm was currency where I grew up, but like most jokes, there was a truth underlying it that wasn’t necessarily funny. 

Where I grew up, if somebody gave you a compliment, you waited for the denigrating joke that would inevitably follow.

My sarcasm was interpreted by my sweet mother in law as cruelty, when in reality, it was the way that I had been conditioned to seek connection, through the sharing of gentle, and sometimes not so gentle insults. 

Subconsciously, a sarcastic insult is a way to tell someone that you have noticed them, and are connecting with them, but in a way that sets limitations on the depth of your interaction by creating a deprecating aspect that warns that depth and emotional intimacy are not welcome.

As I have grown older, and hopefully somewhat wiser, I have tried to learn a new language. Instead of a caustic criticism, I try to substitute compassion and tenderness. 

When faced with the desire to denigrate, I try to uplift and ennoble. Thankfully over the last 20+ years, I have made some significant progress, but most of that came after a terrifying realization.

Because the language that I was taught as a child, consisting of sarcasm, negativity, judgment and scorn was the very same language in which I spoke to myself. 

It is said that the words we say to our children become the voices in their heads, but I would say that it is not just the words, but the intention and emotion of the words that becomes the colors in which we paint both the outer world, and the one within.

Learning to speak more kindly to the people around me (even though my intention wasn’t to be cruel), I began also to speak to myself in a dialogue more likely to open an intimacy with my soul. 

As words of comfort and connection flowed inwards, I began to listen more closely to the struggling within with compassion, rather than disdain, and to offer counsel in place of condemnation.

And it has made such a difference.

Because if the only language that you know is one of conflict, how can you create peace? If you only speak derision, how can you lift others. If your words create isolation, how can you develop intimacy.

I invite you to listen to yourself today, and see if there is another way to express the thoughts deep in your soul, and choose a language of kindness.

For the words you speak are heard by your own ears, and are inscribed upon your soul.

Choose wisely, and may you find a greater peace.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: The unequal exchange of energy

The unequal exchange of energy.

One thing I try to teach my coaching clients is the rule of an equal exchange of energy. Simply put, we are all beings of energy. Sometimes that energy is in the form of time, sometimes it’s in the form of money, sometimes love and friendship. 

The deeper you dive into the universe, the more you realize that energy has a role in everything at some point.

Matter is energy, caring takes energy. Life itself is energy.
Like all things, energy can be exchanged, almost traded like a commodity. 

You see this in healthy relationships, especially in a good marriage where the partners both give and receive energy as necessary, so that they grow together and are there to lift each other up, and replenish the other’s energy just by being with them.

And in a healthy relationship, be it a romantic relationship, a friendship, a business partnership or even a sibling relationship, there is an equal exchange of energy between the parties, almost a symbiosis. 

These relationships are the backbone of our lives, and help us to survive the roller coaster of a constantly changing world.

Unless the relationship become unhealthy.

Because sometimes you find yourself in an unequal exchange of energy. I see this a lot in romantic or familial relationships, where one party in the exchange is constantly giving more energy, and the other party isn’t giving very much at all, or maybe they are taking energy without thinking about the imbalance in which they are participating.

Often the person who is giving more than they are receiving is doing so out of some misguided and unfulfilled need that controls their actions. I’ve seen so many examples of this that I’ve lost count.

All of us have needs, and where we stand on the fulfillment of that need can distort the very lenses we see the world through, causing us to remain in a relationship where there is not an equal exchange of energy. 

This happens very often to people who were raised in a difficult environment; where their emotional needs were either ignored, neglected or unfulfilled.

As they move into adulthood, they form emotional attachments that are intrinsically unbalanced, as they seek to fill their deep, unmet needs for significance, connection, certainty and love. 

Over time, the person gives and gives of their energy, always trying to fill the hole in their soul with attention from the outside, not knowing that the hole can only be healed from within.

I challenge you today to see if you are in a relationship, romantic or otherwise, where there is not an equal exchange of energy. It may be a relationship where you are always the one reaching out, yet the other person only reaches out when they need something from you. 

Or maybe a relationship where the others person’s needs always end up being more important than your own.

If you find yourself in this position, I implore you to inquire within your own mind, to find out what need you are trying to fill that is making you accept such an unequal exchange of energy.

Because no unbalanced exchange will last forever. It must either be balanced, or it will eventually break itself apart.

Discover yourself, and find balance.

—Dr.Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: The case for a terrible honestly

The case for a terrible honestly.

Do you ever stare at yourself in the mirror? Not for the sake of vanity, or to count the number of new wrinkles, or the see the ravages of time, but so that you can truly see yourself. 

If you haven’t, you should try it sometime. Get a stool, and stare at yourself in the mirror, right in the eyes, for a few minutes.

It can change you, if you allow it.

In all of my work here on this page, and especially with those of you who have reached out beyond the page onto messenger and into the realm of coaching, I try to help people reach one singular moment, that can change their life forever. 

My passion, my real life’s work, and what is becoming my overwhelming obsession, is to try to reduce or end suffering by helping people really come to know themselves, in what I have termed as a ‘radical self awareness’.

Because when you know yourself, really know yourself, you find out that the world is very different than you have previously experienced. 

You find yourself less interested in the opinions and the drama of others, because you have a new found balance in your soul. The things that seemed to irritate you before are less important, because your focus is now on becoming the very best you, as defined by you. 

You feel like you are beyond most of the smaller cares, because you have found a peace and perspective that transcends everything you’ve felt before.

When you know yourself, and have made peace with who you are, you find a calm, quiet balance in your soul that allows you to maintain your presence, your kindness and your concern despite the many provocations of life. It can be an incredible thing to experience.

There’s just one catch though, one small detail.

Becoming fully self aware requires a terrible self honesty.

To get there, you have to be willing to examine every thought, unmask every fear, challenge EVERY belief and remove every shred of ego, until you are at last naked before yourself, in all of your strength and weakness; your arrogance and humility, your courage and fear; your hopes and dreams.

You have to go through hell to find you, and once you do, you have to start the journey of healing. Don’t worry, that only takes a little longer than the rest of your forever.

Take heart my friend. I know it sounds difficult, and it is, but I promise you this. 

Every faltering step into the darkness of your soul allows you to place another candle of light along the way. 

Illuminating, warming and guiding; this light will allow you to see yourself more clearly, and find the peace for which you have been seeking.

Just be honest, open, willing to learn, and brave enough to change.

You’ll get there. 

As long as you are still breathing and asking questions, you’ll get there.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: You can’t change what you don’t understand

You can’t change what you don’t understand.

Recently, there’s been a discord in the relationships of friends of mine. People who have been married or together for years suddenly calling it quits, separating, and going their own way. 

People who looked like they should always be together were instead choosing to live apart from someone with whom they had shared time, life, love and sorrows.

In each of these cases, there were signs for the seeing, if you knew how to look.

Yet I found that in each case, the people in the relationship were either unable or unwilling to try to understand the thoughts and actions of their partner, and after a certain point, they just didn’t care enough to try to salvage what was left.

I’m not saying it was their fault, or their partner’s fault, or anyone’s fault. I try to stay out of the blame game as much as possible, because it doesn’t lead anywhere that helps.

But in each of these cases, there was one constant that seemed to weave its way through the tapestry of trauma that led to the ruin of a relationship. 

One simple (yet difficult) step that could have changed the outcome, if only someone had taken a step in their own life to go beyond the surface, and truly understand what the cause of all their troubles were.

If only, if only, they had taken the time to know themselves, and find out why they were acting the way that they were.

If only they had become self aware.

My own journey through self awareness has taken 30 years, and it’s only in the last 10 that I’ve made the breakthroughs that have allowed me to understand why I act, think and feel the way I do. 

In that process of self discovery, I’ve had to face many hard truths, and I continue to live through the process of awareness, uncovering each new layer with fear and courage.

I hope it has made me a better husband, a better father, a kinder friend, and a more compassionate coach. 

I hope it’s achieved something, because it has not been easy, and I still struggle every day with the consequences of choices I made when my awareness was not as focused as it is today.

I would spare you that struggle if I could, for it is not easy.

Today, I ask you to look at the relationships in your life, and ask yourself why you, and the person on the other side of that relationship, act and react the way that you do. 

Try not to judge, to blame or to accuse, but simply try to understand the deep subconscious motivations, and how their actions impact you.

The more you understand yourself, and those with whom you interact, the greater chance you will have for finding peace in this world. 

Ask why, and then listen for the answers to come from deep within you.

You’ll be surprised at the answers you’ll find when you surrender your judgment in the cause of understanding.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: What is your soundtrack?

What is your soundtrack?

Music plays a huge role in my life, and especially in my writing. 

Every time I sit in front of my computer, trying to find the thread of a thought that will manifest itself into the words I desire, I pick an audio accompaniment to help me find the right phrasing that will best explain the idea and emotions I want to share. 

Sometimes it’s just a sound, like ocean waves or a howling wind with rain, but usually it is some kind of instrumental piece, without lyrics, that soothes my soul, and helps me reflect and find balance. If you are familiar with the works of Hans Zimmer, you’ll understand what I mean.

Music soothes, music quiets, music calms, music heals.

And music really tells the story of my life. When I was a teenager, the music of my life was loud, vibrant, rebellious, full of emotion and a desire for stimulus. 

After I was married, my soundtrack changed, into what would be considered slower, more thoughtful and introspective, finding an outlet for my ideas and finding a kinship with those of the same thoughts and feelings.

But all that has gone.

Now the soundtrack of my life has become primarily instrumental pieces, which allow me to feel my own lyrics, rather than listen to the interpretation of others. 

I seek for music that quiets my mind, and allows me to bring the emotions out of me, rather than seeking emotions to come into me through music.

And honestly, the greatest soundtrack of my life now, is silence.

In silence, I can hear the song of my heart, and the rhythms of eternity. Silence gives me the space to expand, allowing the emotions to naturally flow from me, rather than requiring music as a key to unlock and unleash all that I feel within me.

As I continue in my meditation practice, I find either silence or the gentle natural sounds of the world are those which resonate the deepest. The simple song of a bird, the rush of a waterfall, the rustle of the leaves in the breeze.

These have become my soundtrack, as I seek a greater presence with nature, and seek to leave all that is artificial or manipulative behind.

The song of my heart is audible only in the silence of my environment, and also within my soul. For the quieter I seek to make my mind, the louder my heart sings. 

The simplest emotions become my crescendo, the quietest dreams my guideposts, and the most compassionate feelings my desire and drive to move forward.

For as once I sought noise, now I seek only peace.

And silence is a good place to start.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: The lesson from the Frying Pan Tower.

The lesson from the Frying Pan Tower.

During hurricane Florence, a small video feed 34 miles off the coast suddenly became a viral sensation, as thousands of people watched a Stars and Stripes flag resiliently withstand 100+ mph winds, and intense rain.

The video feed was part of a project of explore.org, and the tower it came from is an old ‘light tower’ that is situated off the coast of North Carolina. The tower got its name from the frying pan shaped sand shoals it was originally built to warn sailors away from.

The flag, named by the internet as Kevin, was battered, beaten, torn and tousled during its ordeal, but after all that the hurricane had to give, the flag was still there.

Like many others, I have watched the video feed over the last few days (once the video feed was restored) and celebrated Kevin’s survival and became mesmerized by the stunning beauty of the ocean. 

34 miles out, there is no sight of land, no other people or signs of civilization. There is just the sun, the sky, and water as far as the eye can see. You can hear birds, but there are few signs of anything else.

And for some reason, that simple clarity of the water, sun and sky has drawn me back time after time.

Over this weekend, I’ve thought long and hard, trying to understand the appeal of a simple video feed, and the almost hypnotic effect it seems to have on me. 

As I write this on Sunday evening, I am still watching the feed, and listening to the sound of the wind, the waves and the guideline for the flag gently striking the flag pole.

And then in a moment of inspiration, it struck me I was watching because it gave me a sense of timelessness, of stability, of enduring and of resilience. 

Because the ocean, that vast body of water that gives and takes life, will always be there. The sky, which is really just air bonded to our planet by gravity, has always been there and most likely will for the rest of my life. The sun will likewise be present all of my days.

In the midst of constant changes and storms, the sea, the sun and the sky will always be there.

And I realized that I needed that reassurance. The longer I write these posts, the more I feel myself changing, along with the world around me. These seems to be a seismic shift occurring in my soul, and while it intrigues me, I cannot deny that there is fear and trepidation. 

Uncertainty is not my most comfortable environment.

And the ocean, the sun and the sky are certainties for me. 

As the waves roll through the world, the ocean speaks to me, not in words, but in comfort, in certainty and in understanding. I can take my troubles to the ocean, and feel like I have been heard. 

The absence of judgment gives me the freedom to feel and think clearly. The ocean renews and restores me, bringing calm to my troubled soul.

So I watch the ocean, and feel life flow through me.

Like the waves.

—Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: The fierce sword of compassion

The fierce sword of compassion.

Does that sound like an oxymoron? As we generally understand it, fierce is a word which describes an aggressive tendency, and aggression doesn’t usually indicate compassion. 

And how could a sword be fierce, given that it’s an inanimate object? Also, swords are used to hurt people, and that doesn’t sound very compassionate, does it? At first glance, that statement sounds ridiculous.

Yet it makes all the sense in the world.

Because over the years, people have come to have a very weak and loose idea of what the word compassion means, and it’s caused many problems and a lot of heartache. 

When we talk of compassion, people think of it in terms of charity, and of giving to others, and that can certainly be a part of being compassionate, but it’s only one side of the equation, and if it’s not balanced, then the equation falls apart.

Which is why the sword has to have two sharp edges, and not one. It HAS to cut both sides.

Or to put it another way, compassion has to serve both the person being compassionate, and the person they are being compassionate to. Also, being compassionate doesn’t mean shielding someone from the life lessons that they need to learn, even if they are painful. 

But people don’t want to live that kind of compassion. Because it’s hard, and it can cause temporary pain for others, and especially for ourselves.

Showing compassion to yourself can mean removing yourself from a family situation which is painful and toxic. 

That removal may be forever, or it may only be until you have healed enough to try and change the dynamic, but to the outsider it can appear selfish, instead of compassionate.

Or maybe true compassion is about waiting until someone is trying to change before reaching out and offering help, because you realize that the person needs to want to change enough to do something, before you can help them help themselves, otherwise you rob them of the chance to grow.

True compassion is about balance, not about ego. True compassion serves what is right, not who is right.

Ultimately, the fiercest part of compassion, and undoubtedly the hardest, is finding the balance between what is selfish, and what is compassionate, and when is the time to give to another, and the time to give to yourself. 

When are you doing the right thing for the right reasons, or the wrong thing for the wrong reasons.

Only you can know through awareness and a sharp sense of self honesty.

The longer I live, the more life seems to be about finding the balances between principles, and compassion is a principle that seems to demand balance most of all.

So here we are.

Balancing.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: Silence is not peace

Silence is not peace.

“I just want peace and quiet when I come home” he said, his frustration evident in the tone of his words and the contracted muscles on his face. “Is that too much to ask after having been gone all week?”

I could tell he was angry, but I also knew that I couldn’t leave him at this point in the discussion. No matter what he thought of me, or said to me, I had to push forward and try to help him move from where he was stuck, and into a better place. 

Coaching is like that sometimes, walking a delicate balance on a tightrope you can’t always see, and where someone is often moving the rope without your consent.

“What does peace feel like to you” I asked, hoping that there was a small place in his heart for an honest answer. 

He looked at me like I was an idiot, and then taking a deep breath, he explained it to me this way. “I don’t want anyone bugging me about what I could do to be better. 

Not the kids, not my wife, not anyone at church. I just want to be left in peace, and not have anyone saying anything I don’t want to hear”.

“So I’m confused” I replied, although I wasn’t, but I wanted to set up the next question very carefully, because if I was going to really help him, he would have to accept a truth that would be very hard for him to take. 

“Help me understand, do you want silence or do you want peace?”.

“They’re the same thing” he fired back, his scorn evident as his temper was beginning to flare. I knew now it was time to gamble the entire coaching relationship in one move. 

It’s like going ‘all in’ on a hand of poker, but instead of money, it was our relationship and my ability to help him, which was far more important to me.

I looked him straight in the eyes, and spoke very quietly, in measured tones. “No they are not. Silence is what occurs around you, but peace is what you carry within you”.

He startled, and a small glimmer of hope flared in my heart. Was he going to make the jump, and find himself in a new world of understanding, or would he shut down, retreating into the safety of his anger and ego. 

His next response would tell me where we were headed.

“Then it’s me who doesn’t understand” he replied, with the pain he was carrying now etched across his face. “How do I know when I’m at peace, if it’s not the absence of noise or someone bugging me?”

I breathed a silent sigh of relief. He was making the jump, now I just had to guide him into a safe landing. “When there is silence around you, and no one is bugging you, do you feel a calm quiet resonance in your soul? Can you sit quietly, without needing an outside stimulus to divert you from the thoughts that plague you?”.

He sat quietly, but obviously not peacefully, until he gave me a single word of reply. 

“No.” 

His shoulders dropped, his breathing slowed, and his head hung down. The truth was going to set him free, but first it was going to hurt.

“Thank you” I said quietly, honoring the courage that it took to share that truth with me. I smiled at him and gently gave hope to his battered soul. 

“Now we can begin to help you heal”.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: The Philosophy of a five-year old :)

The Philosophy of a five-year old :)

Do you struggle with your inner toddler? If not, I admire you, because even though I keep him on a tight leash, he’s there inside of me, just waiting to come out and play. 

Well, it’s not play exactly, it’s more like throwing a little personal pity party somewhere between my ears and just behind my eyes, or focusing on my feelings while ignoring everyone else’s. 

And oh gosh, it feels so good for a few minutes, when he climbs over the gate of my frontal lobe and wreaks havoc with every part of my psyche.

Because the toddler never has to make a moral decision, or care about the feelings of others, or even consider the consequences of his words. It’s kind of freeing, in a narcissistic/sociopathic kind of way.

The toddler just thinks what he wants, and on days when I’m too tired, and my brain is slower than it should be, the toddler occasionally gets control of my vocal cords for a short amount of time. 

I’m never proud of what happens next, although I will admit that sometimes his sarcastic little one liners are kind of funny, until you realize that they are never funny and kind.

Because the toddler in me isn’t kind, or mature, or compassionate, or caring, or any of the other values of human nature that I aspire to, while constantly falling short. The toddler is all about himself, so I try to keep him inside as much as is possible. He hates that :)

Recently, I’ve begun having conversations with him. I know, that sounds kind of crazy, but I think it’s an interesting way to allow me to converse with my subconscious a little easier. 

Because our subconscious is kind of like a pre-verbal version of us. It sees in images rather than words, emotions rather than logic, and self-preservation rather than altruism.

He also tells me the things I’m trying to ignore.

Like why a certain person really annoys me (because the 5-year old feels threatened by their success) or why I’m not doing something I know I should (because I want to have fun and laugh and play in the sprinklers rather than doing boring grown up paperwork). 

Maybe it’s sign that I’m losing what little sanity I have remaining, but it’s honestly been kind of refreshing to think of my subconscious as a 5-year old, because it helps me to stop judging myself so much. 

After all, a 5-year old would think some things are funny that grown up me might be ashamed of thinking.

5-year old me wants to watch funny videos on the internet all day.

The longer I talk to the five-year old inside of me, the better balance I am able to create within my soul. Maybe it’s crazy, but I’m learning to understand myself better and also find peace from some parts of my soul that have previously been too afraid to come out.

Do you have a 5-year old inside of you? If so, what are they saying?

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: Collapsing forever into now

Collapsing forever into now.

I wish I could share with you my vision of time, and the way I feel the vastness of eternity, and have you help me make sense of it. I would love to gift you my sense of now, and see if it whispers to you in the way it seems to do to me.

I am mindful that this now is a moment, forever and yet no time at all.

Where I currently sit was once empty space, or whatever there was prior to time. Then time occurred, and space become full of possibility. Somewhen matter assembled into rocks, elements of expression of the mathematically precise arrangement of proton, neutrons and electrons, creating a tangible mass that accreted into a planet. 

Upon that surface the place I now occupy was rock, and possibly water, then a desert, then possibly a field. Then we came, with our planning and building, and a house appeared, and a home was born.

Yet I have never been here before, as the planet on which I ride is moving through space. In a true spatial reference, I have never been in this place/time, and never will again.

Directions become difficult when you are dancing in the fourth dimension.

As I contemplate now, I realize infinite potential/possible pasts have collapsed into this moment, and infinite possible futures stream away from every moment I spend here. 

When time is your direction, you see the future as a different country, which holds the possibility of never and forever as the eternal players on a temporal scale that can tip either side without warning, or mercy.

In these possible futures, there are times of loss, when I contemplate the potential loss of my wife and children, and these thoughts fill me full of dread and despair. There are times of joy, as I see us together, laughing, travelling, seeing this world and all it has to offer.

These visions beg me to treat them kindly, always aware that the next moment could define their forever memory, or mine.

There are times when I see our species journeying through forever, in a never ending discovery of knowledge, or times when I see our planet, this green earth, as a smoldering ball, devoid of life, degrading in decay, radioactive and inactive, lost in eternity.

The longer I walk in time, the more aware I become of the infinite power of the simple choice; a turn to the left instead of the right, a kind word in place of a cruel one, a moment spent in compassion rather than anger, a life saved instead of lost.

The more I understand time, the greater I fear and respect it.

I wish you could feel time like I do. I wish you could share the burden, and the beauty.

Just close your eyes, feel the future, and see without eyes, and let the vision take you.

Beyond.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings

Morning Reflection: The terrible lies in my language

The terrible lies in my language.

How often do you lie? Seriously, just imagine that it’s just you and me, sitting quietly outside of a cabin overlooking a lake, with the sun setting majestically over the mountains. 

The air is crisp, clean and wonderful. There’s no one else around, just the two of us quietly discussing life, dreams and our questions. Your answer will be completely confidential. :)

How often do you lie?

As a teenager, I can tell you it was a lot. As I’ve grown older, I am hopefully better at being honest, but we all lie to a degree. Sometimes it’s the little white lies, or the lies where we are not admitting just how tired, burned out and in need of sleep we are, so that we can spend time serving someone who needs our help. 

You’ve been there, I know you have.

But recently, I’ve become aware of a lie that I’ve been using all my life. It’s a clever lie, one that most often I tell to myself rather than to others. It’s a lie that can destroy all hope, create incredible frustration and limit us in ways that are too terrible to contemplate. 

Most dangerous of all, it’s a really short lie. It’s not hard to say, it immediately stops us from trying, and it can ruin your life faster than you can imagine.

Two words. 5 letters and one small piece of punctuation. It’s simply this…. “I can’t”.

Because most of the time, when I think that “I can’t”, it’s a lie because what I really mean is, “I don’t want to do that, because it looks hard, or it could be unpleasant, or it might result in failure and I’m scared to risk my sense of significance because that could mean I wouldn’t be loved”.

So it’s easier to say, “I can’t”. 

Because when I admit that “I don’t want to” or “I’m scared to”, then I have to deal with the realization that I’m making a choice, and that choice has consequences that I have to face. 

If it’s something I really can’t do, then it’s not my fault, there’s no choice, no guilt, no problem….right? But if I’m saying that “I don’t want to”, then I’m admitting that I can, but I won’t.

Even when I know that I should.

It’s been such a convenient lie; one that has helped me to avoid things in my life that have been my responsibility, but also my fears. So a simple “I can’t” has made it all go away, until time catches up with me, and I am forced to accept that I can, if only I am prepared to accept the hardship that comes with it.

But I need to get on with things, because the scary thing about “I can’t” as a lie is that if you tell it long enough, it becomes true.

Because time runs out, age catches up to us, and eventually, when you have no other refuge from reality, you realize that it is too late, that it is now impossible.

That “I can’t” has turned an excuse into an executioner.

And his name is Regret.

— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings