Kate Allen

Noticing What Comes in the Stillness

Written by Kate • May 20, 2020 •
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As I grapple with the effects of the lockdown during the COVID 19 pandemic, I noticed that I moved away from my practice of stillness and started to fret about the future, the future in terms of the economy and whether or not schools will start up in the fall.

My general plan has been to be a stay at home Mom with limited hours invested in this business until kindergarten. My twins would both be entering kindergarten and much of my day would then be freed up to spend how I choose. It’s like I set up school starting as some sort of finish line in terms of an end point of spending the vast majority of my time on watching and tending to my kids.

It was a goal line, I see now. The image that springs to my mind is of carrying both kids and finally reaching the start of school and placing my kids down on the other side as they start their school adventures.

And then the pandemic arrived. Schools closed. The future is now so uncertain, as it always is, but now it is transparently so.

I notice what the thought of no school in the fall means to me. At first it was honestly close to sheer panic and complete resistance. Noooooooo, screamed my mind. But after allowing myself some time to freak out and to really mourn the potential loss of my plans, I have also assessed and planned for what we’ll do if the schools do close and remain remote learning focused. I know my rising kindergarteners are in no way prepared for a year of remote learning. Not at all. So we’ll home school them. It just is what needs to be done for us as a family and we can do it, with some sacrifice and changes to our focus and schedules.

I see what rises when I try to resist what is. For me, when I’m pushing up against reality and trying to change it, I can actually sense the feeling of pushing against my forehead from the inside of my skull. It’s like I’m pushing on an accelerator and pushing pushing pushing against what is to impose my will against what reality is presenting me with.

As soon as I notice the pushing, I just drop it and drop my attention into my body. A sense of ease arises and I notice it feels better to rest in the moment rather than drop into unconsciousness and try to force reality to be different.

It is an enduring truth that we suffer when we try to make reality different what it is. We have expectations. They arise and they fall away. By hanging on to our expectations no matter the reality and changes we are presented with, we suffer. Drop your expectations. Drop your clinging to certain outcomes. You will feel lighter and the suffering stops.

Rest in the stillness. Listen to what it brings.

What Is The Stillness Trying to Tell You?

Written by Kate • May 18, 2020 •
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I’m reading Glennon Doyle‘s Untamed and I’m mesmerized by her writing, her stories, and the power of her voice. What a book. I highly recommend it.

I got into the bath Friday night after an amazing 4 hour session of mowing our yard, listening to Brooke Castillo’s podcasts. I just love her work and the sense of fellowship to help support me and remember to continue to manage my mind, especially during the COVID-19 lockdown and the isolation it brings. When it’s just you, your partner, and young kids, if you don’t manage your mind, you can slip into old patterns and it can be far too long until you notice you’ve gone unconscious. So I stay frosty and bolstered, listening to Brooke.

And then, in the bath to wash off all that grass and soak my weary yet satisfied bones- I really do love to mow, to get out there in the sun and the solitude and nature- and the fruits of my labor are obvious and immediate with the fresh mow lines and beautiful space for my kids to run and play.

I read the first third of the book in the bath. I was riveted. I was slayed. I got verklempt and I am so profoundly grateful to Glennon for using her time and her voice to create this masterpiece. What a book.

There is a section in the book where she talks about sinking into the space underneath it all, mainly in her meditation sessions but also in her every day life. Her words help outline the inexplicable. If you haven’t ever sunk into the silence and connected with Source/with God, then this might be just an interesting story.

For me, it felt like coming home, chatting with someone who really gets what you’re going through. And her explanation of the results of that connection, that “liquid gold” she talks about. I get that too. For me, it’s not liquid gold, it’s liquid silvery light. But yes, I get her.

The tag line of my website that I established in 2011 is Stillness. Clarity. Purpose. And Glennon talks about how she loves to Be Still and Know. Yes, sister, yes.

What is the stillness trying to help you know?

Lessons from the Lockdown- Coronavirus

Written by Kate • April 9, 2020 •
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Life has slowed waaaaaaaay down since we first went into lockdown, about 4 weeks ago. At first it was disorienting, not going about my normal routine. No rushing about to take the kids to the park. No yelling. No more willpower to get the kids dressed and out the door. No more scheduling hassles. No more rushing about to visit my ill Dad. No more potential school visits. No doctor visits. Essentially no more rushing.

The first thing I noticed about this new normal is that I had time to plan and make dinner every night. I could defrost the meat or adapt the meal plan so that I could use up leftovers. No more eating out because I didn’t have time to prepare a meal. That was incredibly nice and feels like a healthy change.

I also dropped the stress of rushing about, making sure I met all our obligations in terms of visiting and getting out and checking all the boxes for the kids (sunshine- check, playgrounds and appropriate sensory inputs to help with their motor development – check, going to playgrounds so the kids could hang out with other kids- check).

That felt good, to drop that stress. Of course, I picked up a different kind of stress around running my business – will this change affect my clients? will it affect my partner’s business? what about all my people? what about the world? But I remembered what is in my control and and what isn’t and I remembered to breathe and let go of trying to control the world. Ahhh, better.

And now, my world is starting to really slow down. I’m putting my phone down. I’m just being. I’m logging on less. I don’t want to connect so much in impersonal ways. I’m reaching out to friends because I have the TIME, which I already had, but I chose to spend it rushing about, stressing about getting it all done.

In Martha Beck‘s great book, Finding Your Way in a Wild New World, she talks about dropping into Wordlessness. Not dreaming about the future or remembering the past. Just being here, without thinking, feeling something that approaches joy.

And with Kyle Cease‘s book, The Illusion of Money: Why Chasing Money is Stopping You From Receiving It, it’s clear to me now just how much I was doing out of a sense of obligation, from a place where I was going through life doing certain things because it’s what I should be doing. How I was pushing myself from the outside in rather than feeling my way through actually living from a place of joy.

I know people are suffering during this time, from the isolation, loss of income, illness and death. This is true. What is also true is that we can also find the unexpected gifts in such crises. I’m choosing to find the lessons, the places where I can grow from the unexpected, from the pain.

I’ve slowed waaaaaaaay down. And I’m loving it.

The New Normal

Written by Kate • April 6, 2020 •
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I just read a quote that stated “the world is a great teacher to the wise and an enemy to the fool”. That quote sinks in with me because I often look at what is happening to me or around me for the deeper lesson.

Now that we’re in lockdown for the next 2 months, life has obviously slowed down considerably. There are no playrgrounds to take the kids to. No schedule to adhere to. Just seemingly endless days with nothing to do.

For me, however, this time of #coronavirus lockdown reminds a great deal of my time in Peace Corps, when I was posted to the West African country of Benin. I lived in a small village with no running water or electricity. This was even before the internet or the advent of the cell phone. It was just me, in a small village of about 2,000 Beninois and my books. The longer I was at my post, the slower life felt until it got to the point where I could lie still for an hour and just be. Not sleeping, little thinking of thoughts about a future or a past. I just was.

Of course I visited with my Peace Corps friends and started to make friends with people in my village but overall my life was very very slow and uneventful. No phone. No Netflix. No cinema/movies. No place to travel to. No future to strive for. Just two years of being in the here and now.

The first few months were brutal. My mind went crazy trying to maintain my old patterns of striving for a future life, to make myself better, to do more and to try more. I wept many tears. I distinctly remember my Dad’s birthday in early October and I started to do some push ups and I was so overcome with sorrow that I wasn’t at home to celebrate his birthday and I was so bored with my life, that I cried throughout the entire work out session.

But after about 4 months, I adapted. I slowed down and it became my new normal. And after two years, I reveled in the peace and the pace of my new life. I was present. I in the non doing doing. Where I did what rose up in me to do but wasn’t something I planned and schemed about in advance. I was so peaceful and content.

Arriving back in the US was such a shock and my ability to stay present didn’t last long as I quickly assumed my old life habits of striving and trying to do better, be better, be different.

I see this time of lockdown inviting me to do the same thing. I’m reminded so strongly of all the positive aspects of my Peace Corps experience. I’m delighted to begin the slowing down of my life. And as I slow down, I notice the thoughts that arise about how I should be doing more and my brain is intently telling me that others think I should do “this” differently. The “this” is pretty much everything, how I do every thing.

It’s such a gift, to slow down and be present. To take the time to notice your thoughts and habits and to just notice them.

The world will likely not return to “normal” anytime soon with the realization that more animals are now virus reservoirs and we can catch the coronavirus from cats, dogs, and tigers we would visit at the zoo.

Don’t hold on rigidly to what was. Find the gifts in what is. Life will be less painful when you allow what is actually happening to be without trying to change it.

As Glennon Doyle says, we can do hard things together.