Freedom Manifesto

The following is the result of an assignment for my yoga certification. Publishing it was encouraged, so here it is:

Alison Moore’s Freedom Manifesto

My desire for my life going forward is curiosity, compassion and a belief in transformation through creativity and play. I desire this to be my underlying resting state.

FREEDOM comes when I feel that I have choices and agency---when I feel I can change things that don’t work, and improve conditions that are not optimal. In the yogic principle of the union of opposites, the balancing attitude that I desire to cultivate is the simple acceptance of “what is.” These two attitudes may seem opposite (acceptance of what is vs desire for change), and yet I believe a healthy, balanced union of these two will bring me the greatest joy and serenity going forward.

“Acceptance of what is” shows up in compassionate non-judgment of what my body is able to do each day. Whether I experience a “good” practice full of obvious progress and feelings of strength and sweetness, or I navigate a “bad” practice because my energy is low and my asanas appear regressed, I wish to be peacefully present to what is. I wish to carry into each practice the knowledge that every single practice matters, and that the way I treat myself in a practice is the measure of the success of the practice, not how far I could extend or contract in a given asana.

Now, when I see something about myself that I want to change, I desire to notice it with curiosity and serenity. I want to say, “Huh. Interesting!” I want to have the willingness to approach the area that needs work with compassion and optimism and a sense of possibility. Previously I approached it with shame and the fear of what everyone else “must” think of me. My impulse was to hide the shortcoming or failure as quickly as possible. I do not wish to operate from fear of judgment or shame or a desire to hide anymore.

I want to continue to develop PERSPECTIVE or a “long view” which will keep me serene in the face of new challenges. Each challenge in the past has been surmounted, no matter how insurmountable each seemed at the time. When I remember this, I can face new challenges with more curiosity and creativity, and less fearful projections of “certain failure” and dire outcomes. “I got through those things and I can get through this.”

In relationships, I desire to be as authentic and “whole” as possible in each moment. This means I desire to own every piece of my life, and to tell the truth about my experiences with compassion and honesty. “The truth” is never harsh or unkind. It is neutral. The harsh or unkind comes when I attach blame or judgment or shame.  A whole lot of my work to this point has been in becoming free of extensive inner self-abuse and fearful thinking.  As these decrease, new space for honesty, clarity and compassion opens up.

As a speaker and teacher, I desire to lead from my vulnerability. I believe that this makes a space for truthful vulnerability in others. I wish to create SAFE spaces, which invite radical honesty and compassion and self-ownership in students and clients. My dream is that I will invite to these qualities and teach about these qualities and model these qualities as naturally as breathing. The goal of this shared vulnerability and mutual respect is REST.

To rest from hiding. To rest from pretending. To rest from struggling. To be FREE.

What would Brene Brown do?

When I show up with compassion and authenticity and a long perspective, life becomes lighter and easier. I am more patient and laugh more easily.

Authenticity is my freedom.  May I remain open to continuing the work gently and steadily that I might ever move into greater and greater authenticity.

January 13, 2018

The Silent Christmas - 2017

Dear friends and family, readers and companions along the way, Dec 2017

Those who know me well know I am not usually speechless.

When family plans proved no longer viable, Sam’s eyes twinkled as he invited me to spend Christmas Day in Atlantic City “with all the other soulless horrors” (who are the sorts of people who would go to a casino for Christmas). 

But we have no local church in which we are active. We would be missing no special services. So off we went.

On the bright side, I was delighted to be somewhere relaxing with Sam; somewhere where others do the cooking and cleaning, where the room is consistently warm, and hot water is a guarantee (unlike our apartment). I looked forward to swimming in the pool, going on long walks, and to hitting the outlet stores with Sam.

I did not count on profound laryngitis.

On Christmas Eve my voice was kinda cute and croaky. By Christmas morning, it was MIA. I could not make a peep. So also, no swimming. No long walks in the sub-zero temperatures, or even inside, as my tired body fought the infection. I rested in bed as Sam hit the outlet stores.

Nevertheless, this Christmas was full of joys and delights and many funny moments.

Sam hums when he’s busy. He hums when he’s packing, or preparing, or just generally content.

After an overly crowded Christmas Eve bus ride to Harrah’s (I rode next to a Trump supporter and managed civil and friendly conversation for two hours---thanks Dylan Marron!) we arrived. 

Sam hummed as we both unpacked. I found places for my various things, still chatting with my busy husband and didn’t notice until I looked up, finished, that the darling man had strung Christmas lights around a picture. And on the coffee table was a tiny pine tree bolstered by a blue blanket with one red ball hanging near the top. He had even thrown in a tiny nutcracker.

I exclaimed with delight at my thoughtful and imaginative husband. How did he think of these things? I never would have thought to bring decorations. He loves surprising me, and surprise me he did.

Before we caught the bus, he surprised me with a Christmas stocking. He had made one for each of us. They started with Christmas “Crackers”---a British/Canadian tradition usually part of a place setting. I squealed with delight as I snapped mine open, and we enjoyed our silly jokes and tiny toys with bright paper hats on our heads. Then we each got a scratch card---clever.

Next came two surprise toy bags or “blind bags” where one knows the general category but not the specifics of the tiny toy inside.  Again, clever boy. I got a tiny Buckbeak (from Harry Potter) and a tiny…something strange from a cartoon he follows. He got two tiny strange things and was delighted!

When we exchanged our gifts, I noticed how great Sam is at saying things like, “Oh…look at that.” “Isn’t that nice?” “Isn’t that something?” and spending real time and attention on each gift. I don’t think I do that. Now I want to be much more mindful when opening gifts.

So on to Christmas at Harrah’s with all the soulless horrors.

I noticed that, while I had some nostalgia and some twinges of loss, I didn’t mind that we had no Christmas service to attend.

I noticed that I did spend some time judging the people around me. I made up stories about how shallow they all must be and then felt superior and “better-than.” Judging them probably distracted me from judging myself for being at a casino over Christmas. 

Judgmental habits need to find things to judge---and it is far more comfortable to focus on judging outward than to judge oneself.  (Or, I could stop judging at all.)

Besides, when I looked inward, I was at peace.  I didn’t have a reason to judge myself, which then released any need to judge others. Hey presto! What a lovely Christmas gift.

But it was HARD not being able to communicate. I started carrying a notebook and pen. I typed stuff into my phone and held it up for others to read. I even tried Googling simple sign language, (as if anybody around me would know what I was trying to say).

It was fascinating how quickly people treated me as if I were deaf, even when I typed that I had laryngitis.  One person, when I was trying to communicate what I needed said, “Oh, bless your heart!” and started writing things out for me to read too.  A bartender apologized, saying he had taken a term of sign language but had forgotten all he learned. (Assuming I knew sign language.)  Within minutes, shopkeepers, bathroom attendants, and waitresses would start whispering or gesticulating around me---because that is what I was doing? Sam himself often became quiet, and told me it was hard to remember to speak at regular volume around me.

Sam and I were in line for over an hour for a buffet next to another couple. I noticed how rarely they looked at me, but looked primarily at Sam, because I never spoke. I wondered if that is what it is like for the quiet ones in a couple. Does the quiet one feel less visible? It was a fascinating psychological exercise.

          

                                      ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄ ❄

Meanwhile, HOW ARE WE?  

We are well!  After giving up at Starbucks---the bullying was intolerable and showed no signs of improving---Alison left and worked hard at building her wedding ministry and clutter clearing businesses.  

Much research revealed that nothing short of a full return to school to re-do most of her courses would satisfy New York’s Counselling certification, (they do not recognize “Theology” courses as counseling courses) so that avenue was not an option. The advertising expenses for the weddings was not covering the income, so she kept submitting resumes all over the place with little to no success.

Finally, a friend noticed that Mood Fabrics was hiring, so Alison tweaked her resume (again!) to highlight all her sewing experience, and after some back and forth, was hired by Philip Sauma himself, possibly because Alison is a pastor, but also because she was willing to serve where needed.

Within a short amount of time Alison has been helping the densely packed and richly stocked store relocate products for better visibility, create systems to better support inventory management, and make the customer and employee experiences easier and more intuitive.  She is so grateful to be trusted with the implementation of small changes, and tickled beyond measure at the gratitude and warmth of her coworkers. 

“I love working at Mood Fabrics. It is crazy and busy, but my fellow employees are hard-working and kind. I enjoy the variety of nationalities and abilities and that the store feels like a big family.  The owners are kind and my coworkers to date are thoughtful, hard working, and well-intentioned.”

Sam remains at Penguin Random House, receiving another raise, so even the tight money issues may eventually resolve, given careful stewardship by us both.

He seems to like being married.

 

It is Dec 29^th and I still cannot speak. I guess my voice needed a LONG vacation.

But I have so much to say!

I meditated on incarnation and “showing up” as I journeyed through this silent Christmas. I lay and dozed in the light of Sam’s Christmas lights, and felt safe and warm and full of gratitude for my miraculous husband. I reflected on how being present with “what is,” is the core of mindfulness. Not resistance, not preference, not even attempting to change or control the narrative---just accepting and working with “what is” can bring remarkable serenity and greater efficacy in the face of suffering. This sort of “showing up” has been increasingly what has enabled me to notice the blessings in my life---which are “Emmanuel” or where God is present with me.

Thank you for being one of the blessings in our lives. Thank you for reading all the way through this letter! May your new year be rich in growth and depth and spiritual blessings, and may we meet again soon, face-to-face.  

Alison and Sam Moore 

aka AliSam

BUT WAIT!!!!  How could I forget to mention one of the most important events of all in 2017?!

The birth of a new family member---a daughter for Eden and Aaron, who arrived January 10.  Andrea Katherine was born at home 5 days early with Eden's sister, Jennie, on hand to love and support her arrival. Being a grandmother is amazing. I love that child more than I knew was possible. She is surrounded by loving and wise family. My only wish, that I did not live 500 miles away. I include two pictures, one from when she was five days old, and one from this autumn. 

All the rest about her is her parents' right to share or keep private. 

She is a miracle.

Previous Christmas letters can be found here:
http://alisonlongstaffmoore.blogspot.com/2016/12/alisams-2016.html

https://cliffsidechapel.com/Christmas2015.htm

Finding Sam was a miracle. If that could happen, anything can!