The Peaceful Journey

changing directions....notes from the journey

Have you ever been on a road, so sure you 

knew exactly where you were going and what 

to expect and then...... when you least 

expected it, a detour sign appears right 

in the roadway?  

And all your plans are at least momentarily changed.

For most of the last decade, I was secure on my journey, 

roadmap in hand, snacks ready in case of delays.  Sometimes 

traffic had slowed me down, sometimes a stray car might cut 

me off, but mostly the trip was of my planning. 

Just like travel brochures, I had vision boards and in place of 

souvenirs, I held on to crystals and quartz bowls.  

I wasn't traveling alone, I was caravanning with my friends, 

the best traveling companions I could imagine.  People I loved, 

who understood the trials of traveling and were happy to swap 

stories at the end of the day.

And then, out of nowhere, this "unknown detour" sign appears.  

It was not on my itinerary, and I have to admit, I was 

speechlessly surprised.

Okay, enough metaphors!  Those of you who have followed 

this blog are aware something has been up.  At first I thought 

I had lost my way - I was unwilling to admit that a new 

direction might be calling.  I struggled as I slowly allowed 

myself to admit that what I had loved so much was no 

longer calling to me.  

How could this be?  What was wrong with me?

Leaving the corporate world, finding my spot with essential 

oils and then learning how to share them with others had been 

so fulfilling.  I still believed in what I had been doing, I still 

wanted to be of service - and yet, that excitement and passion 

now felt diluted.  But to even begin to question this somehow 

felt disloyal to my journey.  

So I shut down.  I was really depressed.  Just as long ago I 

had questioned who I would be without my job - now I was 

questioning who I would be without the essential oils, without 

my label of aromatherapist.  Confusion was my only 

authentic feeling.

And just as taking a detour requires making the decision to go 

down a new road, finding my way required me letting go of my 

past journey.  Amazingly, the moment I sent out a notice that 

I would no longer be creating the oil blends, I began to see a 

new path.  I had to commit to changing courses before I was 

able to see the new road.  I had to trust the signs that even 

though the detour was "unknown", someone had been there 

before.  I mean someone had put up the sign - right?

As I gave myself permission to just let go and see what would 

happen, I began opening to what seems to be my next journey.  

A love that had been set aside began to come forward and a 

new plan is starting to take shape.  

I looked around and this detour is not so bad.  In fact, it 's 

pretty fun and filled with new sights and new travelers.  I 

have a vague idea of where this road is leading,but I am 

not for sure enough to speak with confidence just yet. 

After all, I have just found this path.

Right now, I'm just exploring a new space, checking out 

the sights and wondering where the pie shop is.  So should 

we meet and share something?

Meanwhile,  I send some postcards along the way.

 

Preparing to stop

It's been almost a decade since I walked away from my "real" job and began walking into what I labeled as my "real" life.

In some ways, ten years have seemed to stretch into eons of time; in other ways, they have passed in a moment.

Just like life.

When I made the choice to leave the familiar and plunge into the unknown, I felt there was no looking back. I thought I was closing a door firmly on all that no longer fit. So, rather than going through my life and making conscious choices about what to keep and what to discard, I just slammed that door and walked away.

For years, this was not a terrible plan. There was a lot to explore and learn and I really didn't miss what I had left behind. And to tell the truth, I was still mad and hurt that the job I had so loved had morphed into something I hated. I felt betrayed.

Today, I stand at another crossroads. I know that I am feeling a shift, a change of some sort of direction. I am also aware of that feeling of betrayal, of being resentful that change is arriving unbidden.

I feel unsure of the next step - I only know that this time, I want the changes that come to be conscious choices. I want to keep what I love, while discovering new things that make my heart sing.

So I am going to be quiet - for me, a totally new mode! The Peaceful Journey and A Peaceful Path are taking some time off. And we'll see what new path opens up in this space.

See you soon.

When is enough really enough?

These past weeks have been filled with re-addressing issues I had assumed were long resolved. I guess it would be highly evolved for me to express gratitude for the opportunity; but seriously...... who does that? Mostly I have just felt overwhelmed and confused.

About a year ago, I held a workshop focusing on Brene Brown's work with shame. And I thought I had really made a lot of progress with living an authentic life.  But a recent bout of illness has brought up a huge load of baggage I was not even aware that I was still carrying around.  So I guess this would be a great time to shine some light into this area that has been filled darkness.

About 15 years ago, I was introduced to the "Law of Attraction" through some cassettes (remember those?) from Abraham-Hicks.  I loved this new viewpoint - in retrospect it was probably not only that it was sound info, it also appealed to the controller in me - yes!, I was in charge.  

Well, while this teaching served me well in many ways, I was also able to morph it into something I could use to beat myself up about. I mean, if I was creating my own reality, then every misstep, every hardship, every non-positive moment was my own creation - right?  I managed to turn victimhood into a new form of shame and then begin to hide that from even myself.

These past few weeks I have been ill.  Not terminally, just miserably.  And the cause of my dis-ease has been perplexing both me and to my doctors.  I have mostly felt - ASHAMED.  The waves of shame I have felt about this have kept me from asking most of my friends for help - I mean, come on - I'm just creating this misery - why open it up for all to see?

The part of me that is kinder to myself seems not to have extended itself into this area.  The amount of judgment I have around this illness is huge.  So I get to be sick and also angry at myself for not being, well - what......enlightened enough? aligned enough? maybe just plain enough?  to just turn it around.

Perhaps the seed of this is the long held belief of not being enough. Somehow, I have grown to believe that if I were enough, I would never be ill, never be angry, never be disappointed.  So these have become emblems of the lack of enoughness in me.

I don't have an answer - I think I just needed to look bravely at my reluctance to even admit that something in my physical body is not well and I don't want to be ashamed of that anymore.  I don't know how to take a beloved belief that has served me so well for so long and open it up to this side of the discussion. Do you?

So this post is really a question.  I want to know how this works for you.  Do you struggle with balancing this amazing insight of the Law of Attraction and the everyday wear and tear of life? I am so ready for another point of view!

If you don't like the weather....just wait awhile

 

One of our biggest adjustments in moving to Austin will probably only be understood by those of you who live in Southern California.  It sounds crazy to the rest of the real world, but we are having a hard time getting used to, well ....weather.

Los Angeles is the land of sunshine - the smallest raindrop elicits a "Storm Alert" complete with banner across the lower edge of the TV screen.  There is a slight variance in temperatures, but you can pretty much plan months in advance for an outdoor wedding without any backup strategy.

Austin is the land of change.  Last Sunday we woke up to rain and 40 degrees.  By that afternoon it was sunny and near 80.  Thunderstorms roll through and then the stars jump out of the nighttime sky. The saying  "If you don't like the weather, just wait awhile." has become our mantra.

Living with actual weather is a great learning tool for living an unexpected life.  What I am learning is that just as the thunderstorms roll through the night and then disappear, I can trust that the stormy times in my own life will roll though - and then disappear.

In Los Angeles, I expected the weather to be great - it wasn't cause for comment unless someone was from out of town.  What I have noticed about my own life is that I am emotionally like Los Angeles - I expect life to be sunny and mild.  When a shower approaches or God forbid, a thunderstorm, I get freaked out.  I go on "Storm Alert", ready for the disaster that is sure to follow. 

Most of you know that I sincerely believe in the Law of Attraction.  However in my own life, I have frequently used this as a way to berate myself for any moment not to my liking. If it is not sunny in my life, then I am creating those showers.  And they might turn into a storm at any moment.  And I might not have an umbrella.  Oh, no....what to do??

I rush about trying to stop the rain.

But now that I am more in touch with the cycles of weather, I see that contrast isn't always a bad thing.  The gray clouds don't last forever and they have a certain beauty of their own.  When I feel low or even snarly (think serious tornado alert!), I do know this will pass.  Maybe I don't need to rush about trying to fix myself, fix my family, fix the world. 

Maybe I just need to learn to "wait awhile".

These weather patterns seem like a more authentic life.  Less flat-line lovely and more unexpected diversity.  The issue turns into becoming comfy with peaks and valleys, with sunny days and thunderstorms, with feeling quiet and wanting to dance.  Mother Nature seems to be supporting this awareness by giving me visual examples almost daily.

And I am learning.....in both my exterior and my interior life.... to relax and just be in this very moment.  To trust that stormy times will give way to glorious sunsets and new views.  I am learning to "wait awhile".

PS. The photo above was taken with my phone from our balcony - nice classroom for these life lessons :)

 

Misplacing Myself

Two nights ago I was lying in bed, thoroughly engrossed in a novel.  As I turned the page, these words began the next chapter:

"There are several ways to react to being lost.  One is to panic......Another is to abandon yourself to lostness, to allow the fact that you've misplaced yourself to change the way you experience the world."  Audrey Niffenegger from "Her Fearful Symmetry"

Although I was really invested in what would happen next in this story - I found I could not read any further.  I just wanted to let these words settle into me. I kept thinking of that saying - when the student is ready, the teacher appears. Earlier that day, I had just spoken with a friend that I was so very ready for a new view, some fresh breeze of energy that could have me waking up with a smile, ready for surprises.

And bam - words written on a page in a book from the library, checked out to distract me and instead assisting me in receiving that new view I so want.

Being lost - it seems to be my new mode.  There's the physical lostness of a new city - frustrating but fixable - I mean, I could get a map, get a GPS, listen to the lady on my phone, drive enough that I learn the routes.

Then there is the much larger lostness of fearing that I have misplaced myself.  I love that phrase because it is just so perfectly descriptive. As I look back on the last six months, reading some of the past posts, I see this has been my fear - that I have misplaced myself.

And choosing the first option, I have panicked.

My life is different - undeniably.  The way I have dealt with this is to question everything - it feels as though I have been excavating my very soul. I do not deny that there are times when soul searching has been a good thing, but lately it has become more of a habit than an experience.

"Another is to abandon yourself to lostness, to allow the fact that you've misplaced yourself to change the way you experience the world."  Yes - I see the sign for a detour on this route I have set for myself.  I am exhausted from this travel - breaking every part of my life into pieces to be inspected, analyzed, and yes, judging my misplacement.

What would it feel like to just abandon myself to this journey, to let the experience flow around me like the stream around the rocks?  How would it reshape me if I were open to experiencing the world differently?

And as so often happens in real life, the next morning I got lost.  I misplaced myself, turning into a construction zone in downtown Austin that seemed to become an endless maze of detours.  The words from the book rushed into me - what if I would just abandon myself to lostness?

So I did.  I sat in the traffic jammed to a stop and looked around.  I saw places I had never noticed.  A flower shop caught my eye with the sign  "Happy Hour - from 5-6 PM each weekday, Flowers are 1/2 price".  How totally cool is that?

I saw a frozen custard stand (almost pulled out of traffic for this one) and a really cute house with a purple door that matched the purple flowers surrounding it.  I saw a man in a wheelchair walking his dog - or maybe his dog was walking him?  I smelled the sweetness of the lake and acridness of the asphalt fumes.

I abandoned myself to lostness and found some things along the way - probably the most memorable was the realization of how I could choose to experience the world in a new way.

Now, how will this translate into the lostness of my self - all the questions about what I am doing and how it all fits?  Can I abandon myself to lostness and allow the fact that sometimes I misplace myself change how I see the world?

Maybe I will begin to see it as less critical, less disapproving, less negative and just feel more safe, more okay, and enjoy the ride without needing to hyper-analyze each little trip along the way.

Perhaps I will see the act of "abandoning myself to lostness" not as a moment creating panic but as a new way to experience the world.

So I am curious - have you sometimes felt you have "misplaced yourself"? What was your reaction?

I'm still alternating between panic and starting an adventure.

 

"Let It Be"

On a yoga mat, under a fuzzy fleece blanket, I breathe.  

Deeply, again and again.  

I'm no longer conscious of the time, only of my breath, secure in the guidance of the leaders of this breath work class.  My lungs fill up and release, having finally found a rhythm that now seems natural.  

For this moment, there exists only me and my breath.

Near the end of the session, my mind starts to drift.  As thoughts of this past month float up, I find I cannot seem to focus on them.  My doubts about where I belong, my guilt at not producing, my anger with myself for not being - well maybe just for not being - they are all there, struggling to be heard.

But instead, my heart is filled with lyrics the Beatles wrote four decades ago.  

Can I just "let it be"?

As I sit up slowly at the end of the class, coming back into the present, the song comes to me again.

"When I find myself in times of trouble

Mother Mary comes to me

Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

And in my hour of darkness

She is standing right in front of me

Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

Let it be, let it be.

Whisper words of wisdom, let it be."

I am of the generation that related to everything the Beatles sang - they were truly the poets of my day.  I have always loved this song, but have never connected with Mother Mary.  Maybe it's my Baptist roots, but I could never feel what my friends call the energy of Mother Mary.  Yet, here in this lovely space, for the first time, it seems I can feel her presence.  Even the words "Mother Mary" feel reassuring, warm pink energy swirling around me.

My rational mind immediately decides it is the heavy dose of oxygen that I have just given to my body.  Perhaps I am hyperventilating?  Could this awareness I feel surrounding me with such comfort just be a physical response to breathing deeply?

Does it really matter?  As I started this post, I see that it has been a month since I have written anything.  I reread my last December blog and remember these past weeks. The "no-plan" plan is so much more difficult than I ever imagined.

Will anyone see me if I am only in the process of "being"?  As I have tried to relinquish control, every insecurity that I thought had faded away roared to the surface.  How could I ever be "enough"?

I know this is a journey of trusting - never my easiest or preferred form of travel. I have resisted this path of trust; I have fought it on every turn. I have wanted to retrace my steps and just write this experiment off as a failure.  

And yet, I long to return to it - this journey of letting go of what I am not and becoming what I am.

These lyrics are the bottom line - "let it be".  Deep insight coming clearly at the end of emptying my mind for 90 minutes.  Three tiny words holding a whole universe of truth.

"And when the night is cloudy,

There is still a light that shines on me,

Shine on until tomorrow, let it be.

I wake up to the sound of music

Mother Mary comes to me

Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

Let it be, let it be.

There will be an answer, let it be.

Let it be, let it be,

Whisper words of wisdom, let it be"

So I am practicing a new mantra.  I could just "let it be".

I could stop trying so hard to not resist, stop trying to flow, stop always trying to be somewhere that I am not. 

And maybe begin to see where I am.

Free Falling - when panic and trust collide

Yesterday was a travel poster day in Austin - bright blue skies and warm air. Yet I spent the entire day on the sofa under a blanket, self-medicating with cheese grits straight out of the pan while watching "Eat, Pray Love" on mute. 

Of course I tried to analyze my condition.  This is what I do - I observe, I label, I categorize. Making lists has always created the illusion of security in my life.  Even as a small child, my lists were my lifeline - nothing could be forgotten or lost.  When I don't know what to do, I make a list. And the another, just in case!

But as I began slowing returning from my attack of extreme inertia, I saw that this "anxiety attack" is all about "the list".  You know, the list that is on every magazine cover, the topic of all talk shows, that crown of all lists - Resolutions.

As a dedicated list maker, it isn't surprising that a list of New Year's Resolutions would be the cherry on my holiday dessert.  Every year, that list has felt honorable, noble, responsible.  The individual entries have been refined as I have changed, but the overall tone has remained the same.  And now, I am seeing its truth for the first time.

Lists are my tangible evidence of feeling in control and the Resolution List is the way I have felt in charge.  I could decide what I wanted to change, to amplify, where I would place my focus.  This list of changes has become my personal manifesto, my own declaration of what is important to me. The list was my proof -  I was IN CONTROL.

But I have changed.  I see that the time on my sofa, semi-comatose, has not been a time of retreat, but actually, the hours of a full out war being waged. A battle plan that has been refined endless times during the past six decades is in the process of being dismantled.  The new plan being suggested is untried - there is no body of evidence that it will work.  Everything in me has been screaming, "Don't go there... It's not safe!"

This began a few days ago, as I listened to Vanessa Stone talk about entering this year empty - no agenda, no calendared plan.  An empty cup waiting to be filled.  As I felt these words go straight into my heart, I knew this is what I want for this moment.  I want to be open to something I have not yet seen.  I want to enter this year without my list, my agenda, my grand illusion of control.  I want to step into each new day with wonder.

I am terrified.

I know I have written all year about facing fears, about change, about seeing new directions.  But nothing has prepared me for this griping fear.  I realize that exploring this with words has been an entry point.  As I typed out each new awareness about this journey, I was beginning to open to the courage of investigating further. Words on a computer screen let me glimpse through the cracks, checking out a new land. There is a sense of safety in writing - I can observe from a safe distance.

But now there are no words, no plan, no preview of coming attractions.  If this is my choice - to enter with a blank screen, an empty cup, with utter trust - I must learn to take a breath and Be. 

I have no idea how this works - those of you who are already on this path are so invited to send back a report. 

I only know that as I write this, I am less frightened.  More curious.  More Open.

So it begins.......

 

 

 

 

 

you’re already perfect

Today, I can think of nothing more to offer than this excellent post by Leo Babauta on Zen Habits.

  (Post written by Leo Babauta. Follow Leo on twitter .)

 

‘Be Content with what you have; rejoice in the way things are. When you realize there is nothing lacking, the whole world belongs to you.’ ~Lao Tzu

"A lot of people come to Zen Habits (and read other personal development blogs and books) because they want to improve something about themselves. They’re not satisfied with their lives, they’re unhappy with their bodies, they want to be better people.

I know, because I was one of those people.

This desire to improve myself and my life was one of the things that led to Zen Habits. I’ve been there, and I can say that it leads to a lot of striving, and a lot of dissatisfaction with who you are and what your life is.

A powerful realization that has helped me is simply this: You’re already good enough, you already have more than enough, and you’re already perfect.

Try saying that to yourself, as corny as that might sound, just to see if it sounds true. Does it resonate as something you already believe (in which case, you can probably stop reading now), or does it not feel right? Do you feel like there are things you still need to improve?

The thing I’ve learned, and it’s not some new truth but an old one that took me much too long to learn, is that if you learn to be content with who you are and where you are in life, it changes everything.

Consider what changes:

• You no longer feel dissatisfied with yourself or your life.
• You no longer spend so much time and energy wanting to change and trying to change.
• You no longer compare yourself to other people, and wish you were better.
• You can be happy, all the time, no matter what happens in the world around you.
• Instead of trying to improve yourself, you can spend your time helping others.
• You stop spending so much money on things that will supposedly improve your life.
• You can be smug about it, like me.

OK, the last bit was a joke, but the rest is true, in my experience.

And here’s another realization that I’ve written about before: You already have everything you need to be happy, right here and right now.

Do you have eyes that see? You have the ability to appreciate the beauty of the sky, of greenery, of people’s faces, of water. Do you have ears that hear? You have the ability to appreciate music, the sound of rainfall, the laughter of friends. You have the ability to feel rough denim, cool breezes, grass on bare feet … to smell fresh-cut grass, flowers, coffee … to taste a plum, a chili pepper, chocolate.

This is a miracle, and we take it for granted. Instead, we strive for more, when we already have everything. We want nicer clothes, cooler gadgets, bigger muscles, bigger boobies, flatter stomachs, bigger houses, cars with leather seats that talk to you and massage your butt. We’ve kinda gone insane that way.

The sane thing is to realize we don’t need any of that. We don’t need to improve our lives. We don’t need to improve ourselves, because we’re already perfect.

Once you accept this, it frees you.

You’re now free to do things, not because you want to be better, but because you love it. Because you’re passionate about it, and it gives you joy. Because it’s a miracle that you even can do it.

You’re already perfect. Being content with yourself means realizing that striving for perfection is based on someone else’s idea of what “perfect” is … and that that’s all bullshit. Perfect is who you are, not who someone else says you should be.

Also, as corny as it may sound, I love you, completely and unconditionally, and if everyone else in your world betrays and abandons you, you always have me. :)

Now stop reading this blog, and go be happy."

**Thank you Leo, I'll do just that :)

 

"Facing the Cranky" - a new plan

Isn't it the most amazing thing when the perfect info just arrives?  Maybe it is always around, but then I will notice it and everything shifts.  That just happened.

Since arriving in Austin, seemingly the home of all known allergies - seriously, there is a daily allergy report on the local news! - I have quite arrogantly stated many times that I don't ever get sick.  In fact, I have adamantly argued that the constant focus on allergies has probably created them (but that is the fodder for some other blog).

Thanksgiving night I got sick.  I lost my voice and then slowly spiraled into some sort of full-fledged cold.  I was furious, upset, embarrassed.  This was our only 3 days with our daughter from LA and suddenly I was ready to be quarantined - no one wanted what I had and didn't even want to sit by me.

Today, it's Tuesday and I can finally talk (according to my hubby both a blessing and a curse), but I am still feeling lousy. And pissed off and guilty.  But then I got this blog post from Andrea Schroeder.  If you never open any other link I send out, I so hope you will take 2 minutes and read this one.  It completely shifted how I am reacting to this bout of whatever I have and it will become my new plan for the future.  (Granted it is also a lovely endorsement for my new blend - but what I am talking about is Andrea's technique.)

I am not discounting the Law of Attraction in any way - but in my life, I often use it to beat myself up.  Everything is my fault, so very exhausting. Today, I just stopped visualizing myself completely healthy, stopped poking myself for making myself sick, just..... stopped. 

Instead, to quote Andrea, " I turned around and faced the cranky."  I just stopped resisting and had a little visit with my cold. I was cordial; I let the cold talk a bit.  I really listened instead of controlling the conversation.

And the cold told me about my fears - some real, some imagined.  It told me I have not really honored the huge changes in our lives and just let myself be scared.  Scared that I won't find my place in this new city, that what I have to offer will not be wanted, scared that I have lost my soul's support system. Scared that I am not a good enough wife, not a good enough mother, not a good enough friend.

I realize that I have used every particle of energy I have resisting these thoughts - my body is just so depleted.  As I sit and listen to my cold, I feel my shoulders drop and my breathing ease.  These are somewhat reasonable fears, but they are just fears - not facts.  My resistance has made them so much larger. Listening to them in this way puts them in context - they are not the whole picture, they are just small pieces in a much larger puzzle.

As I use Andrea's suggestions and start to give myself some compassion, some gentleness, some self-care, some love, some comfort, I find it is okay to just be with my cold.  Not fighting it, hating it, not being IN IT, just being with it.

This cold will pass - it is not a definition of who I am or who I am not.

Today, I want to love me, even when I am sick, even when I am scared, even when I am wrong.  I am just going to "be gentle with my sweet self".

In case you didn't click on the link (but I really, really, really know you would love it) - I want to introduce you to Andrea and her work.  I'm currently enrolled in her "Give Your Inner Critic a New Job" course (and I am sure that there is going to be much more of this discussion to follow.) 

But for now, no resistance.  I'm going to lie down for a while :)

Thank you Andrea!

 

Learning to Bend

This morning, it is windy in Austin.   I find myself feeling at one with the trees, bouncing around, unsettled.  As I open The Book of Awakening to begin the day, the words seem to be written for me:  "The hard things break.  The soft things bend."  A word picture of what I am watching from my window.

I think about these words as I watch the movement.  The dead, dry tree limbs so easily snap in the wind.  The living green branches are non-resistant; they seem to embrace the movement.  They open their arms and dance.

Like so many of us, I have been feeling overwhelmed with change.  I wasn’t aware of the toll this has taken until, like the dry tree limb, I snapped apart this weekend.  It didn't take hurricane force winds.  It wasn't even a storm.  But I felt splintered apart as I resisted still more change in my life.

I had received an email from our youngest daughter. She and her husband are moving into a new, larger apartment in the city and making the very adult purchase of a washer and dryer.  Everyday life, nothing life threatening.  Actually news to celebrate.

I was startled as I watched myself dissolving into racking sobs. I felt I was breaking in my resistance to change, even happy change.  I wanted to hold on to the image of my daughter and her husband in their old home - I could imagine them each morning getting ready for the day.  I knew where she sat at her desk working, where she made coffee, where her husband plays video games far into the night.  I had a picture that I felt was rapidly dissolving, without new pictures to take their place.

I felt dry and brittle with loss.  I was like the branches that fight the wind, always losing.

Eventually there was a shift.  I became grateful for this awareness of how painful the dry twigs in my life can be.  I have a sense that change is not over in my life.  Not in any of our lives.  This is an awareness that I will return to, but with a new understanding that meeting change with flexibility, bending with the wind, is not only easier, but more fun.  I want to dance with the winds of change; not cower in the corner afraid of any movement.

Looking back, I see the gift in this awakening. The gift of contrast. I now know that I want to be the green branch that bends, that allows change to flow through my leaves and embraces that moment.  I want the sunlight that floods in when the dead wood has been cleared away. 

And so, I can choose - to stiffen against what is inevitable and then, ultimately break, or I can allow myself that freedom to bend. The freedom to be okay with tossing and flexing and letting life move through me.  To not see change as loss. To welcome the new view that change provides.   To trust that I am safe, that I will not break or splinter.   

To happily bend.

 

 

 

 

"Tell me a story......."

What parent hasn't heard these words hundreds of times?  And then comes "tell it again,.....please...."  

And the story gets retold over and over. 

Even now, I can quote whole sections from books our daughter plead to hear endlessly.  Imprinted in my brain is the complete text from "Five Minutes Peace" and "Blueberries for Sal".  (Amazing recall, in light of the fact that I can't ever find the car keys!)

We all have our stories - sometimes the very long version (usually assisted by wine and good friends) and sometimes the "elevator speech" (that quick assessment that happens during the space of an elevator ride).

The long stories are encouraged by therapists and memoir writers, by budding relationships and by explanations to children for how we behave.  The elevator speech is a favorite of business coaches - a succinct nugget that defines us immediately to a stranger. Our "go-to" definition of who we are.

We spend our lives honing our stories.  Each moment of insight demands a slight revision, each memory holds the possibility of distortion. We become so attached to our story that we believe it - even when we become aware of the many subplots we have created. These show up all the time, unnoticed as we live our life, in the form of "always" and "never". 

In my quest to "Call off the Search", I was surprised to bump into my story.  I began to see that my story had led to much of my searching.  And I was even more surprised to feel how deeply attached I am to this story - after all, it seems to be my masterpiece.  I have written every word, polished all the phrases, memorized key lines. It defined me perfectly, I thought.

My subplots are many and varied.  My right shoulder "always" hurts, my mother can "always" push my buttons, we are "always" lost in our new city.  The story starts to take over, pushing aside the truth in the facts - my shoulder is not hurting right now, my mother and I just had a pleasant conversation, I got to the bank and back just fine with nary a U-turn.

But who would I be if I came to the table alone - without the story of a small town that I labeled as claustrophobic, the story of a a deeply religious upbringing that I painted in so many words as fanatical, the story of a family that was framed with the labels of passive-aggressive and just plain nuts?  What if I lost my story of mistakes and hurts and wrong turns on the path?

How would it feel to just show up as myself, in this very moment - without the baggage? What if calling off the search included calling off the back-story?  Who will I be without the shadows?  And more importantly, where will the blame fall for all those faults I tend to focus on?

So I am having a grand experiment.  I am consciously removing the adjectives that have defined my story.  I am exploring how it feels to be alive in this moment, just as myself.  The self that has been hidden under all the chapters in the story. The self that doesn't need to discuss old body aches, painful religion, dysfunctional families, and decisions made decades ago. 

I've lived with the old story for six decades and tried endlessly to restructure it into a format I felt would be acceptable.  (Deep sigh) - ENOUGH.  This is the moment for a new story. 

This story will be fresh, newly minted every day.  This story is not in history books - it's the latest breaking news that scrolls across the bottom of the television.  This story is authentic, not tinged with rewrite after rewrite of scenes needing to be long forgotten.  It is so much easier.  It's a quick read, so simple to tell. 

No more carrying around the heavy tome of Karen's life.  Today, it is more like a menu - what will I have today?  And the best part is that it's my decision.  I can write this story however I please and then enjoy it.

I realize this sounds rather naive, after all, what about REALITY?  My personal belief is that my thoughts become things, and I create my own reality. So, I am ready to create a new reality.  A new story could be the first step.

So here comes the HUGE footnote: 

A glimpse behind the words -

Without the story (we could never....), without the search (what does _______say about this?) and in a new city in a new state without the physical presence of friends, I have been feeling stripped down, exposed, vulnerable and yes, scared.  What have I gotten myself into? 

This road is so new to me and yes, just like driving the freeways of Austin, I feel frequently lost.  And sometimes a bit sad.  Losing that old story is like having something physically torn away from my body.  But the tear is healing. Underneath the fear I know there is such bravery; and even though I am not enjoying this little section of the journey - I truly believe there is a gorgeous view just over the hill.  I would be so sorry to miss it.  So I travel on, some days easier than others, but still sure this is a path I want to explore.

Maybe soon I will have some great photos to share :))

 

"Farewell" - a much needed disclaimer

I know I just posted two days ago, but I have realized that post needed to come with a disclaimer.  As I wrote My Birthday Farewell, I was so relieved - having just  "given notice" to fear (to continue the work metaphor). 

Well....... Fear decided to file a wrongful termination claim and is asking for a huge settlement!

Maybe it was so publicly acknowledging this decision; maybe I would have had the same experience if I had held it closely to my heart. But fear rushed at me like a tsunami, overwhelming me unexpectedly.  I was blindsided by the intensity of the fear that I experienced.  It came first in my dreams and then stayed with me throughout the day, touching everything around me.

I felt I didn't deserve this - then I remembered I create my experiences. Ughhhh- I hate taking responsibility for this one.  Why would I ever choose this pain? 

Thank God for dear friends.  When I told my friend about this rush of panic, she had a brilliant suggestion.  She asked me to write down everything I was afraid of - to give it a shape, a size, a color, lots of details. 

And as so often happens when we turn the light on, the scary shadows began to disappear.  As I wrote out these terrors and described them, I began to see how they are just that - scary shadows.  Yes, some of these fears could come true, but it is much more likely they will not.  I could recognize the thoughts that had so overwhelmed me as just what they were - thoughts.  Thoughts from my fear.  Not facts, not even probabilities. Thoughts.

So the reason for this post is to encourage you - perhaps you too have given fear "notice", and it has so angrily replied.  Maybe what worked for me will help you -

Just give fear its voice, let it tell you all its concerns. Listen patiently.  And then, look at the words.  It's possible that you might have a similar experience and those very words will help to reduce this tidal wave of unwanted emotion.

I don't have this licked - last night my dreams were filled with struggles.  But I am certain that I am on the right path and willing to stick it out for a while; to see where I will go. 

Maybe we will travel together.  It's so much easier with a friend.

 

A Field Report from Calling Off the Search

Three weeks into calling off the search.  Such a small span of time and yet such a huge shift in perspective. 

I have to admit the first week or so, I felt a little panicky at the disconnect. I felt a bit abandoned, forgetting that I was the one who had cut the ties.  I felt out of the "cyber loop" - who was I without the constant information stream?  The trail of link to link had been my habit. As I put books on the shelf, I was afraid that they contained that last bit of information that I so desired.  As I unsubscribed to newsletters and then no longer had much email, I felt unseen. I questioned the wisdom I had felt in making this decision.

At first I was at a loss as to how to spend this time.  I was not used to open stretches of unscheduled life.  I felt bored, scared that I was going to become unproductive.  I didn't know what to do with myself.  I had no idea of the amount of time that would become available when I decided to sink into just being.

And then, much to my amazement, a whole other world opened before me.

My days found a different rhythm. The amount of time I usually sat in front of my computer catching up on "everything" morphed into time I could sit outdoors.  I no longer grabbed a cup of coffee and jumped in to check my email - I sat outside and watched the squirrel climb to the very top of the cedar tree for the sweetest berries.  I began to journal because I wanted to, not because it was the plan listed in the latest book I was reading.  I found myself pulled to the oils again; ready to create something that speaks to this change.  A blend to support stillness.

During this transition time, I've been thinking about the difference between a guide and a teacher.  For me, a teacher brings things for me to learn, things I don't know, things that have been labeled as, and perhaps are, important.  And I am not discounting teachers in any way, I am just exploring where I am today in relationship to teaching.  A guide, however, shows a path and I am left to explore it.  In my own way, with my own photos taken without assignment, absorbing what I am noticing at this moment.  A guide allows flexibility.  I can have a guide without the search.

So for this time, I am traveling with a guide who encourages lots of free thought, free time, freedom to examine and decide what my truth is.  A guide who is supporting deepening my life in my own way. In three short weeks, this adventure has advanced from terrifying to deeply nourishing.  Yes, maybe I go days without looking at Facebook, some days the computer never gets turned on, and yet, I am filled with a new energy.  It is softer, quieter, more authentic for me.  I have discovered a place within myself that is what I have sought outside myself for so long.

Isn't it interesting how calling off the search has led me to the very place I had so intensely sought?  I have no idea if this is a lull in the journey or a new path.  And that is what makes it so interesting.  Learning to live without an agenda, open to possibilities.

 

Calling Off the Search

What if...I called off the search???

I have always been a seeker - of adventure, of safety, of love, of the unknown. For the past few years, what I have sought has been my own form of spiritual enlightenment - perhaps a nobler quest, perhaps just another path

It has been a part of my journey that has brought me great joy and a life I mostly love.  However, recently I have begun to notice that, for me, personally, seeking has become a habit. Privately, I have labeled it "seeking mindlessly".

I thought the inertia I have been experiencing was because of our move, the heat, all the newness now in our lives.  Some days I have given into the feeling and just drifted.  Some days I have fought through this haze valiantly and kept up the search.

Then my friend Erin reminded me that someone named Vanessa Stone was in Austin and I, the eternal seeker, downloaded an MP3 that completely shifted my perspective.

The title of this recording was - yes, you guessed it - "Call Off the Search." Everything in me resonates with this and is simultaneously terrified by the very idea.

Vanessa's talk is based on the concept of allowing ourselves to be.  To BE.  To be enough.  To rest in being enough.  To lay down the need for the eternal searching and allow ourselves to finally become our own knowing.

With this encouragement, I decide to just observe my life.  I look at the books I have recently bought - some read, others still unopened.  I am stunned to realize that I receive about 125 emails a day - 90% of these I have signed up for as I continued to seek more knowledge, more viewpoints, more enlightenment.  I see that in the midst of one of the biggest changes in my adult life, I have signed up for 6 different e-courses; so afraid that I would miss out on something.  I have more sound energy music in my iTunes than I could listen to in a month. My searching is beginning to feel relentless.

I mentioned in my last post that I have begun the practice of noticing what energizes me and what drains my energy throughout the day.  Without a doubt, 125 emails looking me in the face, eager to be read, regardless of their valuable content, have become a drain. 

Yet when I think about how I can "call off the search" in my own personal life, the idea of missing out on something brings such feelings of unease.  I love these blogs and newsletters and general musings - I love to read them, to share them, to contact those who have presented them. 

But I have been like someone at a buffet for the first time - I have loaded my plate with everything that looked good and then wondered why I felt a bit queasy.  I have been the person who picks every dessert and then cannot enjoy the specialness of any one.

The very act of calling off the search fills me with anxiety.  I have not taken time to know what is within myself in my rush to fill myself with everyone else's words.What if I have no words of my own?

Yesterday, I sat before my computer screen and slowly, email after email, I hit the "unsubscribe" link.  I do not know how to make exceptions, so I say a goodbye to all for a while.  Some I know will come back quickly, others that do not call to me now will be there if I need them in the future.  I rearrange my playlist on my iPod to what calls to me at this time.  I put books back on the shelf, maybe for another day.

It feels very Zen to make this space in my life - and still I am nervous and unsure as I take this step.  I have believed I needed all this input for a very long time.  A tiny voice questions if I can be enough alone, quietly listening to my own voice??

What will be there when the search has been called off?  I have no idea. 

However, taking this leap of faith feels refreshing.  Maybe this is another version of the 'less is more' philosophy I am adopting in my physical life.  I have seen how fewer clothes can be enough, how possessing less means more freedom. And perhaps even more freedom will emerge as I call off the search and see what is within.

PS - Confession:  this was scary to write, I kept thinking "what if everyone unsubcribes me!" - but  - I will truly understand - I've been there already :))

 

Today's "Ah Ha" moment.......

You know when you have what Oprah calls an "Ah Ha” moment?  When you feel a shift - whether it is physical, or mental, or emotional?  I call them Magic Moments, because they are usually so unexpected and always such a gift.

I just had one!  Let me share:

There is a lot written for those of us who aspire to blog about regular, timely posts.  Seems right.  Yet it's been 2 weeks since I felt any inclination to write anything.  I have just wanted to rest, to be quiet, to absorb our new life. 

And felt moderately guilty - hey I have that "to do" list just like you.  It's just sitting there, waiting for some "dos" to get done.  I have blamed the move, the relentless heat, the fires for my lethargy.  But I have struggled to try to do something, anything productive. 

This morning I open my email and read Meredith Murphy's blog post - "resting is not doing nothing". 

"Ah Ha" moment big time..  Meredith and I haven't spoken since I have been in Texas, however it feels like she has written this for me. 

In this post, she quotes a post from someone else who inspired her (don't you love the chain of insight the internet can so easily provide?) using the example of an eddy in a stream.

Meredith gives this definition of an eddy from a kayaking site:

"A river eddy can be a lifesaver for a paddler. They offer a place to rest, relax and scout the perfect line ahead.

When you’re in an eddy you shouldn’t have to paddle at all, or at least, very little because there is no water flow."

Yes, I am resting in an eddy!  And it is a lifesaver. :))

I suddenly realize why I am so drawn to the hawks I watch each morning from our balcony.  We are right at the tops of the trees and there are lots of birds in the skies.  But I love most of all the way the hawks use their wings to get into the airstream and then how they just glide.  Effortlessly.  Beautifully.  Allowing the air to carry them.  This is what I want to experience.

On my desk, my journal is open to a page where I have been listing what energizes me and what drains me.  As I go through the day, I check in and see which column I am operating from.  I love the simplicity of what energizes me - the list uses single words, it's a small list right now.  Simple.

Conversely, the list of what drains me seems to have developed in sentences.  Lots of words, the frustration so evident just by glancing at the list. I think my spirit wants to really impress me with what I need to let go of. Perhaps right now!

So for this moment, I am in my eddy, quietly becoming aware of what lies ahead.  Choosing the part of the stream that energizes me, moving away from what drains me. 

Remembering that "resting is not doing nothing".

Please feel free to join me! 

 

 

Channeling my inner Joni Mitchell

"I've looked at life from both sides now,
From win and lose, and still somehow
It's life's illusions i recall.
I really don't know life at all."

Three weeks ago, we left Los Angeles for Austin, Texas.  It was a journey we had happily planned, ready for our next adventure.  Two little silver cars, driving mostly in tandem, east on the I-10, directly into the sun!

I have to admit I was looking forward to this 1400 mile drive by myself.  Listening to the music and CD's I love.  Planning my new life.  I was ready with a filled iPod and extra CD's just in case, with a water bottle and snacks, in a car packed with boxes of essential oils too precious to be trusted to the movers.

Then, on the third day of this drive (yes, we took it easy - the apartment wasn't available for a week), I was overwhelmed with memories.  You know, those that are sealed up like the boxes that never get unpacked.  1972 came flooding back to me - the year I was on the other side of this highway, escaping to California.

I had just turned 22, and with all of the impetuousness of the adolescent I truly was, I had just made choices that would affect my life and the lives of those I love forever.  Choices made out of anger and fueled by sheer terror and defiance. I had set out for a place I knew nothing about with someone I barely knew in a little green Pinto filled with everything I owned.  I had steeled myself against my broken heart at leaving two babies and the only life I had ever known.  Yet I could see no other choice.

And for 3 days I sobbed as we drove to California.  To the unknown, the only fact being it was as far as I could go in that direction.  I was escaping.  Today, I would probably be diagnosed with post-partum depression, but that was not an option in 1972.  I just knew I was breaking apart and no one seemed to notice.  I had never felt so alone and had no words to express the need to just run away - not just from a very young marriage and tiny twins, but also from the small town where I grew up and the religion that was inescapable.  I felt I was dying.

So I made choices more appropriate for a 15 year old, and because of the enormity of these choices, I thought I had burned all bridges and taken no prisoners in this flight.

Three weeks ago driving the opposite way, back to a place I had never planned to return, my heart cracked open for that young, paralyzed girl fleeing for her life.

Forty years can allow for much change and that has been my story.  Time passed.  A lot of time passed and miracles happened.  My ex-husband and children moved to California and we began the process of re-acquaintance and repair. I found an amazing therapist whom I love to this day for being a good father and allowing me to learn to grow up.  I found myself.  And then I loved myself.

As I drove and wept, I was so stunned by the contrast of that trip in 1972 and this journey of today.  Then, I was running away, filled with defiance and fueled with fury.  Today I am running toward, filled with love and hope and gratitude for becoming a part of the lives of those left so very long ago. 

Because I have looked at life from both sides now, I know I cannot judge another's action.  I know what is on the exterior is usually so different from what lies beneath.  I know there are second chances, and third, and more.  Every breath is a new moment. 

Each highway has two sides.  And I have traveled both.

 

My "Out of Body" Experience

 

If I am really honest about what pushes all my buttons, about what causes me to roar up in righteous wrath and shout loudly that no way could that be true, about what I continually argue with inside my soul - I would have to admit that these are in fact the things I know to be very, very true.  It doesn't matter what you say to me, accuse me of, and label me with.  The only words that really stick are the ones that hold much more than a simple grain of truth.  But it is so easy for this knowledge to get lost in the moment of fury.

A few months ago, I had an experience that deeply affected me - so much so that I am still pondering it.  I wanted to learn how to use a new energy tool and a couple of friends and I were meeting with an "expert".  He decided the best way to show us was to work with us and we eagerly agreed.

When it was my turn to experience this energy work, he paused and made the observation that I was as disconnected from my body as anyone he had ever worked with. 

I was devastated.  And hurt.  And humiliated.  And to tell the truth, I was not even for sure what he meant. 

I just knew this insight felt to me like some sort of accusation that I was lacking in something essential.  That I was flawed. 

Every molecule of ego I possess came roaring to the surface.  I could barely stand to stay for the rest of this "lesson".  And the moment I could, I blasted out of his office, feeling shaken to my core.

A bit of an over-reaction, wouldn't you say?   Altogether, this comment was not more than dozen words and not even expounded upon.  Just an aside statement meant to be a part of the lesson, certainly not intended to crush my world.

But I was so pissed. I won't even begin to repeat the ways I criticized his teaching techniques, his intuition, his very being. I mean, who is he to tell me that I am not in touch with my body?  And the worst part of all this fury is that I couldn't figure out why I was so hurt and angry.  And even more troubling, I didn't even know what he meant.

Time passes.... eventually the moment comes when I can revisit this comment with a small amount of sanity.  Some more time passes. 

But his simple comment continues to whirl around in my mind - what does it really mean? 

**Tiny background note:  My mother was a nurse and the easiest way to get her attention was to get sick.  So I was sick a lot.  As an adult, with a lot of good therapy, I saw the pattern and decided that wasn't going to work for me any more. 

But perhaps I let go of too much.  In my new devout belief that my thoughts create my life, I have left no room for a relationship with my physical body.  If I get a cold, I immediately go to "what is my body telling me?"  If my shoulder hurts, I look it up in Louise Hay's book and do the appropriate affirmation. I haven't been very sympathetic with any illness, mine or others.  When I began to study aromatherapy, I really did not want anything to do with the medical aspects of essential oils. Nope, I was just going to be "spiritual". Yes, now I can see I have been detached from my physical body big time.

I am still learning what it even means to be connected with my body.  This is something I have not mastered by any means.  I am taking baby steps without a guidebook.  I am starting by appreciating my heart.  My physical heart.  The one that has continuously kept beating for 62 years.  No vacations, no coffee breaks, no "I'll just take the day off".  How amazing.  Every morning I try to remember to just love it and thank it for being so faithful.

If my truth is that I am a spiritual being having a human experience - that includes this human body.  Experiencing this body.  I don't know yet what this includes.

This is a new part of my journey and it seems I have not brought along any maps or suggested routes.  If you have read this far and have some insight, I would so appreciate you sharing with me. 

So, several months later, I am not mad any more.  I am not hurt or even humiliated.  I am grateful for this awareness.  I am finally eager to learn. I know that even though I do not understand it, this new appreciation is an important piece of the puzzle of my life.  A piece that had been misplaced and is now found. 

 

Now - the question becomes - where does it fit?

 

 

A Moment of Panic

PROMPT:  What happens when you simply start to create without a plan?

How does that feel? Do any of the elements needed make you uncomfortable?

Discomfort is great! It always leads to growth – how do you feel about that?

 

(from Natasha Reilly of Creative Nachos @21 Secrets)

Having a plan is the name of my game - I ALWAYS have a plan. One for me and probably one for you.  And the utter confidence that my plan is really, really good.

Starting to create even this post without a plan is a bit unnerving - I feel like I am in a strange place with no map - how will I get around?  What if I get lost?  Deep breath - get real - how lost can I get in Word on my computer?? 

Before the Plan got lost, I have been happily enjoying a great online course called 21 Secrets.  21 (but now 22, thanks to the lovely addition of Andrea Schroeder) amazing women give supportive classes on opening to being creative using art journaling and other inspirations.

When I signed up, I thought it was just for the prompts - the urging to get me going exploring art.  After all, I am so creative!  I create essential oil blends, I put together interesting newsletters for myself and for clients, I re-decorate with scary regularity and I am fearless in the kitchen.  So I thought I had the creative thing nailed.  This would just be a supplement - like art vitamins! 

I pulled together my tools - I love to buy art supplies, I love to buy journals - unfortunately I seem to never use them.  The happy side of this is that I had a bunch of stuff ready to go.  And I laid everything out on the table like an art picnic and sat down.

And froze.  I sat there with my heart beating fast and began to feel like crying. What is up with this??  This is supposed to be fun - this is where I wanted to go when I wrote The Joy in Being "Just Okay" last year.  Easy to write - but so very different as I look at a blank page and have no idea where to start.

As I plunge in - determination is a trait of mine that has its moments - it starts to become fun.  I am cutting and pasting; it's not that different from a vision board.  Then a blob appears and it's not a pretty blob - it looks exactly like what it is - a messy mistake.  And I want to quit. 

I want my pages to be lovely - just like the videos I have just watched.  I want to smear color around in delightful ways and find just the right texture and ink.  My inner judge is demanding attention and is NOT happy.  How can I do this if I am not good - not even kinda good enough?  I am used to being really good at what I set out to do.  And this, using the same tools a 4th grader would be comfy with, is not happening.

I stop and just pause to collect myself.  I have read all the instructions full of encouragement that this is a process and not a test.  That it is a way to go deeper into myself and become more open.  And in that moment, I have the answer to my extreme discomfort.

When I want to create something from my heart, I feel vulnerable.  I feel like my soul is wide open in a different way than writing.  When I write, I can craft the words, I can spell check, I can re-write and use the thesaurus. I can be open, but there is a bit of a safe distance.  When I put paint on the page and add a thought - there is no turning back.  Sure, I can gesso over the whole page, or tear it up or just keep fooling around until maybe it could please me.  But for me, the process seems so much more exposed.

Of course, that is the point.  Can I look at my own imperfection and not run away as fast as I can?  Can I look at messy pages as exactly what they are and not turn them into the litmus paper of my very soul?  Can I be comfortable with imperfection?

I guess we will see - the classes go on until Jan.1.  So progress report to follow.

What's Luck got to do with It???

While I must say that synchronicity has become quite common in my life, I am still blown away by it.  Maybe chalk it up to a child's wonder or just the programming of the world at large, but I still  surprise myself with the big "Wow" that comes as I watch things come together in the most amazing ways.

Today is no exception, but I will get to that a bit later...

I woke up thinking that a good blog topic could be "The Luck Factor" - many have commented on the ease with which our house has just sold.  The usual response has been "you are so lucky".  And while I don't think I am in the business of correcting everyone's viewpoint, I feel I need to give credit where credit is due.

You see, my very core belief - on a cellular level - is that I am responsible for the energy that I create for myself.  I have this comment printed out on my desk to remind me.  I totally believe that "Thoughts become things" and so I try to think good ones :)) 

I want to be responsible for the energy I bring into each encounter.

So when we decided to sell our home, this is where we began.  My husband and I set the intention that this would be easy, that we would not listen to all the negativity that came forward like a tidal wave about the real estate market in Los Angeles. 

We would just focus on the end result - a sold sign in front of our house and an easy move to our new life in Texas.

And it was easy.  In a mere 3 weeks, a lovely couple with a small son bought our home, inspections and appraisals sailed past (there were a few bumps, but easily resolved), a gorgeous apartment was leased in Austin and the movers are scheduled.

I don't chronicle all this as some accolade to myself - instead this is to remind you that this is available to each one of us. 

The only area we totally control (and fortunately the most important one) is our thoughts.  And our thoughts create the life we lead. 

The reality is that reality is flexible - it bends as we project what we desire. It acknowledges the story we are telling and runs with it. One of my greatest gifts is a husband who is quick to point out when I steer into the messy mire we often call REALITY and remind me that I get what I see.  (For this, I am sometimes grateful!  LOL)

So this post is not offered as anything except proof that this works.  I don't have special powers or gifts that you don't have.  We all have as much access to this as we wish.  It's something that just requires a little practice and the burning desire to live our lives in a new and different way.

Now to my opening subject - synchronicity.  After I got the urge to write this today, I opened my emails and there were 4 - yes 4 - emails supporting this very concept. They could have been written for this very blog.  (and yes, this is actually how I start each day - 4 or so  lovely thoughts to set the pace)

Okay Universe, I get it!

First:  My Daily Message from the Universe:

"A Life Coaching Tip from The Universe:

The time will come, Karen, and it will be sooner rather than later, when your greatest admirers and protégés will look at your life - your achievements, possessions   and passions - frown a little and sullenly say, "Yeah, but for you... it was easy." At which point you should conceal any yearning you may possess to either object or laugh hysterically. Instead, lovingly look them square in the eye and say, "Yes, and it can be easy for you, too." The Universe"

 

lovely syncing, don’t' you think?......

and then I opened My Daily Dream Builder from Mary Morrissey

"A life properly lived is an easy luxurious life.  It's not supposed to be difficult, but we can make it that way with limited thinking, low expectations, or failing to see ourselves as we really are.We are infinite beings of life --fun-loving gladiators of the Universe --adventurers just being human with eternity before us.  We have power over our thoughts to shape us. Remember that today.  You are a gladiator of the Universe. You have power over your thoughts."

 

Gee Mary, I couldn’t have said it any better.

Next came my daily message from Abraham-Hicks

  "You are the thinking, Vibrating attractor of your experience; and the thoughts you think determine everything about the life that you live. As you turn your attention toward the positive aspects of the personalities and behaviors of others with whom you share your planet, you will train your point of attraction in the direction of only what you desire. Not only does the power of your thought determine which people make their way into your life, but the power of your thought determines how they behave once they get there.--- Abraham"

 

And finally a note from Neal Donald Walsh

"You cannot see the solution, of course,if you are convinced it is not there. 

So you must have great faith in life. Do you have great faith in life? 

Now would be a good time to show it. Smile.  Relax.  It'll all be okay."

 

 Can you see that everything is conspiring to help us make this leap of faith?  I believe that as each of us makes whatever move we can in this direction, the impact is felt by the entire world. Every choice we make begins to change the collective consciousness of this world.

Isn't this a revolution you would love to join?

My "AHA" Moment

Have you ever struggled with a question and then, the answer appears and you can say nothing except "AHA"?  Well, that was my experience last Friday.

I guess I need to preface this by telling you I was anticipating something - my friend Brenda Hoffman had stated in her channeled message last week: "The last piece we wish to discuss is that you will most likely experience some sort of shock or memory opening in the next few days”.  So I was on the lookout but I had nothing particular in mind.

I woke up Friday filled with excitement - I was sure the skies would part and I would see enlightenment manifested. I was ready! 

(And no, I never have big expectations - LOL)

As the day goes by, nothing is happening.  Life is just moving forward.  So while I am on hold for my enlightenment experience, I take a few moments to just let go and ponder a dilemma. 

I have been questioning a longing I have had for some time.  I could not understand how I can feel very positive about our upcoming move to Austin, and yet I am so drawn to Hawaii.  

I can't keep those images of the beach and Hawaii houses off my vision board!

But my struggle has been the "hows" - I keep listing all the things that would make this difficult - the logistics of owning another home, the money involved, getting our stuff to Hawaii, our dog, the list just gets longer and longer.

I have had this vision of living in Hawaii for a couple of years and I have really refined it. I realize that I even put myself to sleep at night thinking of sleeping in my bedroom in Hawaii, I feel the soft breezes and the white linen curtains in my imaginary bedroom poof out a bit.   I know how to walk outside our room and sit by the ocean at night and watch the moon.  I know how the coffee smells in the morning as I stand in the kitchen.  I am so into this - but so puzzled.  This is 180 degrees from where I am packing to move.

What is up with this?

Am I making some sort of huge mistake?  It's like saying I am in love with two people at once (and let's not go into that conversation!).

And then I GET IT! 

Yes - the "AHA" has not forgotten me. :))

It is so clear that I might as well have seen the skies part and heard the voice from above explain it all.

I don't need to own a house in Hawaii to fulfill my dream.  I don't need to be there all the time.  I don't need to lug a bunch of my stuff across the ocean.

I just need the invitation to a space - I can be perfectly happy being a guest.

I just want to have the space to gather the teachers I love together and this share with friends.  What I want is to have retreats and classes and cook the meals for those I love. I want to stay up late and talk about what we love accompanied by wine and ocean breezes.  I want to provide a space where healers of all kinds can do their work. And I can do all of that in someone else's house! 

Eureka - that had never occurred to me.

I had been busy for months arguing with myself about how to realize my dream and yet continue on in the life that feels right.  I had not gotten quiet enough to hear that there are so many ways to manifest a dream - so many ways I cannot even imagine.  And I have not remembered that the "hows" are not my job - I just need to feel the end result.

Yes - I just need to know that welcoming others on a similar path and opening to that sharing is all that is required of me.  Goodbye to the plan.

AHA!