Elizabeth Lesser has a wonderful book called "Broken Open; How Difficult Times Can Help Us Grow" that I am reading for the third time. I have recently had some experiences that made this book a guide and a necessity. I separated from my husband, moved to a new house, and my father died - all within the space of three weeks. That was May. It is now September. I thought, being the virgo, type-A person that I am, that by now I would be well on my way to the life on the other side of my life's tragedies. That is not the case. I have tried to accept this and learn some patience. Elizabeth talks about going into the pain to find courage in the softness of sadness. I always thought courage was about strength and resilience. My sad, broken heart just needed to get over things. Yet, as I take more care of me and let the sadness exist for a while I am finding a new dimension to courage that I never knew I had. You see, for a long time I hid my pain and put on a facade for everyone. Now the veil is lifted and I am standing naked in my own reality, facing the woman in the mirror who lets her true feelings show and is not ashamed of the truth anymore.
Elizabeth also talks about the "Open Secret" that we all share. We tell each other in our conversations and greetings that all is well and life is good and have a wonderful day. We walk away envious of the other's happiness because we know ours' is fake. But the secret is that the people we greet most often feel the same way. They think we are the happy ones and they wish they were us. If we were honest we would both see that we have pain and fears and disappointments. We would be able to truly see each other and perhaps even lift each other up. Instead we want others to believe we are happy and all is well even though we are tortured by the misbelief that it is really everyone else who has found the key to happiness for which we continue to search. I walked around like that for years and it took a lot of energy to pretend I was "fabulous" when what I truly needed was to open my heart and tell my story.
I am in the process of becoming real. I am slowly coming to like and love myself. I am thinking again of what pleases me, exploring the dreams and longings of my heart. I am learning to trust the voice within me that I finally recognize as my own. I am beginning adventures, like building a business. I spend time calling friends I have neglected for a long time. I am writing down my goals and planning my life. I am taking time to sit with myself so I can listen to silence and wait for answers from within. I am learning to trust that my sadness is the pathway through to the me I have yearned to find. And when I think I don't know how I will make it on my own I remind myself that I am already doing it, one miraculous day at a time.
I know that as women we are so used to taking care of others that we forget how to love and nurture ourselves. In the last three months I have had an awakening, a Phoenix kind of arising, from my past. I see now that my life was not full of mistakes, but of lessons and blessings, from which my whole self is being formed. For within every perceived failure lies our potential for success if we but seek the lesson offered.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Sunday, August 15, 2010
mighty lessons
When my father died in May my heart seemed to split wide open. I was in the midst of separating from my husband, as well as moving to a new house. My kids, caught in the middle. Then suddenly I was on a plane flying across the country to be with my family in Newfoundland. Looking back on those days in May I scarce know how I survived. At a time when I needed someone to lean on I was the most alone I had ever been in my life. We can go for years feeling that things remain the same and then within the space of a few days reality shifts and we are forever changed.
Somehow I stumbled into June. The kids and I began our life in a new house, getting used to the changes. I am in awe of my body now because each day I was able to keep going and it never failed me. One day at a time. June became July and July gave way to August. And here I am today. Slowly the heart ache subsides and life around me takes on the visage of normal. I am learning to go forward. For the first time in almost 30 years I am not in a relationship. And while I thought I would leap into the experience it has taken some getting used-to, some adjustment and courage. My father told me once that he thought I was a very strong person. He also told me that being able to support myself was important in life because there are no guarantees. I wonder if he saw something in me that drew that comment to his mind. For here I am living out the "no guarantee" scenario.
So what does this story have to do with building a business? Well, it's more about building a life. We all come to our work and daily engagements with multiple shades of experience. We are not one-dimensional, and really how boring would that be? I look back upon May as a month of mighty lessons. And the most important one came from my father. He took his exit much as he lived his life, quietly, faithfully and without a fuss. He died as he lived, with honor and blessings. My father did not amass great financial fortune in his life but he lived with the kind of abundance and love that most of us yearn for but rarely find. Not one day of his life did he owe money. He never had a mortgage or a car loan or any kind of credit. He never knew a day of debt. He loved my mother with his whole heart and created a life that was happy, family-centered and rich in joyous gatherings. He focused on what mattered, never veering from that, and always working hard to support it. And therein lies the wisdom. To focus on what matters most in all that we do. To reaffirm our "why" when we wake up each day. I believe that if we do that, focus on what matters, anything and everything is possible.
Somehow I stumbled into June. The kids and I began our life in a new house, getting used to the changes. I am in awe of my body now because each day I was able to keep going and it never failed me. One day at a time. June became July and July gave way to August. And here I am today. Slowly the heart ache subsides and life around me takes on the visage of normal. I am learning to go forward. For the first time in almost 30 years I am not in a relationship. And while I thought I would leap into the experience it has taken some getting used-to, some adjustment and courage. My father told me once that he thought I was a very strong person. He also told me that being able to support myself was important in life because there are no guarantees. I wonder if he saw something in me that drew that comment to his mind. For here I am living out the "no guarantee" scenario.
So what does this story have to do with building a business? Well, it's more about building a life. We all come to our work and daily engagements with multiple shades of experience. We are not one-dimensional, and really how boring would that be? I look back upon May as a month of mighty lessons. And the most important one came from my father. He took his exit much as he lived his life, quietly, faithfully and without a fuss. He died as he lived, with honor and blessings. My father did not amass great financial fortune in his life but he lived with the kind of abundance and love that most of us yearn for but rarely find. Not one day of his life did he owe money. He never had a mortgage or a car loan or any kind of credit. He never knew a day of debt. He loved my mother with his whole heart and created a life that was happy, family-centered and rich in joyous gatherings. He focused on what mattered, never veering from that, and always working hard to support it. And therein lies the wisdom. To focus on what matters most in all that we do. To reaffirm our "why" when we wake up each day. I believe that if we do that, focus on what matters, anything and everything is possible.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
go with the flow
My daughter has been saying all summer that she is just "going with the flow." She is 16 and a rather dramatic, live-with flair, intense, ambitious teenager so this is a departure from the norm for her. She decided that after a year of stress in her life and being very demanding of herself that she would loosen up, be more relaxed, and simply go with the flow. She recommended it to me. She thought her much older, type A, driven, must-be-busy mom needed to stop taking life so seriously.
It is true. I wake up every day thinking of what I need to do. My entire morning routine is over-shadowed by my thoughts of what must be accomplished. But lately I have been trying something new. I spend at least 10-15 minutes of my morning quietly reflecting while I sip my coffee. When my thoughts try to race towards creating a checklist for the day, I refrain. I sit very still and simply enjoy the quietness of my house and the solitude. I think of all the things I am grateful for in my life especially the blessings of love and friendship. I practice listening inwardly. It is my coffee meditation time. My listen to God time. My "go with the flow" time, as my daughter says. For instead of pushing ahead into my day I am taking time to reconnect with the flow of life that runs peacefully within all of us. We simply need to look within to find it, waiting there for us in the hushed silence of our spiritual being.
If my daughter read this she would be telling me by now that I have taken this "go with the flow" thing too far. I would have gone a little too "Oprah" for her. I can hear her say, "There's mom, off on her personal 'Eat, Pray, Love' experience again! And that may be true. I am a middle-aged woman seeking her true meaning of life, with enough life-lessons to know that I will never find myself out there in the world. Been there, done that. Nope, I am doing the inside job now. It took me 48 years to figure that out, but by golly I have arrived. Whatever happens in the second half of my life will be created from the inside out. I realize this is not a revelation. Lots of people know this. I have been reading books for years that teach this very message. It's just that I am finally doing it. I am finally taking the time for reflection, meditation and silence. It is my version of going with the flow.
All things in life require the thinking first and then the doing. And it is in the doing that we discover that the answers we were seeking were within us all along.
It is true. I wake up every day thinking of what I need to do. My entire morning routine is over-shadowed by my thoughts of what must be accomplished. But lately I have been trying something new. I spend at least 10-15 minutes of my morning quietly reflecting while I sip my coffee. When my thoughts try to race towards creating a checklist for the day, I refrain. I sit very still and simply enjoy the quietness of my house and the solitude. I think of all the things I am grateful for in my life especially the blessings of love and friendship. I practice listening inwardly. It is my coffee meditation time. My listen to God time. My "go with the flow" time, as my daughter says. For instead of pushing ahead into my day I am taking time to reconnect with the flow of life that runs peacefully within all of us. We simply need to look within to find it, waiting there for us in the hushed silence of our spiritual being.
If my daughter read this she would be telling me by now that I have taken this "go with the flow" thing too far. I would have gone a little too "Oprah" for her. I can hear her say, "There's mom, off on her personal 'Eat, Pray, Love' experience again! And that may be true. I am a middle-aged woman seeking her true meaning of life, with enough life-lessons to know that I will never find myself out there in the world. Been there, done that. Nope, I am doing the inside job now. It took me 48 years to figure that out, but by golly I have arrived. Whatever happens in the second half of my life will be created from the inside out. I realize this is not a revelation. Lots of people know this. I have been reading books for years that teach this very message. It's just that I am finally doing it. I am finally taking the time for reflection, meditation and silence. It is my version of going with the flow.
All things in life require the thinking first and then the doing. And it is in the doing that we discover that the answers we were seeking were within us all along.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
finding your passion
When I was a young girl attending university I became an English honors student. This event in itself was a surprise to me, that I should be accepted into the honors program. It was the first time in my life that I really felt I could be more than ordinary, more than a girl from outport Newfoundland. It was the first time that the universe responded to my heart's greatest desire to be a learned person of literature. I wanted to hear and feel and fully experience the power of language and how we as humans communicate what is in our souls. It was the beginning of my love affair with words that continues to this day.
Looking back I wonder if things would have turned out as well as they did without my beloved professor, Gildas Roberts. Dr. Roberts was extraordinary. He was a man of small stature but large presence. When he walked down the hallways of the English Department he seemed to glide, with his academic robes gracefully swishing behind him. He was immaculate in dress and personal grooming, distinguished and charming. He knew he caught your attention and he enjoyed it. He entered the classroom with the same flourish and looked out upon us with a mischievous gleam in his eye. Only Gildas Roberts could make Beowulf rise from the pages to live amongst us in the classroom. His flawless reading in Old English gave shape to a language that was as sweet in the ear as it was upon the tongue. I went on to take advanced Old English. Dr. Roberts taught one other student and me in his office for two semesters. We were two eager young girls with our feet tucked beneath us in large leather chairs, ready to learn from a man whose wisdom we so deeply admired. That winter was a blessed time. Snow falling outside the window of Dr. Roberts' office while we read and translated word for word the entire text of Beowulf. By the time spring came we had finished our translation. As a gift for our many hours of dedicated work Dr. Roberts gave each of us a signed copy of his personal published translation of Beowulf. It is a treasured book in my library to this day.
After I graduated from university my life took a number of different turns and it was many years later that I decided to reconnect with my professor. Sadly, my dear Dr. Roberts had been tragically killed in a motorcycle accident while traveling in Wales. It broke my heart to not get to tell him how much he meant to me and how important a role he played in my life. Part of me supposes that he knew. But youth is not always respectful of the gifts bestowed. It takes time and perspective to gain genuine understanding of what was imparted by those who taught us when we were young. It was when my children took an interest in Beowulf that I began thinking of Dr. Roberts again. As I read and translated the text for my kids I heard the voice of Gildas Roberts patiently enunciating each separate sound of the Anglo Saxon words. Once more Beowulf came alive for me and I was able to incite in my kids the awe and wonder of the story of a hero and a monster.
How fortunate are we when we find our passion! There is a joy in it like none other. We are fully awake, alive in the pulse of our greatest existence. It is in our passion that we find our reason for being, our purpose, our right alignment with the spirit that guides us. I wish for you just such an awakening, just such a doorway into your passion. You deserve nothing less.
Looking back I wonder if things would have turned out as well as they did without my beloved professor, Gildas Roberts. Dr. Roberts was extraordinary. He was a man of small stature but large presence. When he walked down the hallways of the English Department he seemed to glide, with his academic robes gracefully swishing behind him. He was immaculate in dress and personal grooming, distinguished and charming. He knew he caught your attention and he enjoyed it. He entered the classroom with the same flourish and looked out upon us with a mischievous gleam in his eye. Only Gildas Roberts could make Beowulf rise from the pages to live amongst us in the classroom. His flawless reading in Old English gave shape to a language that was as sweet in the ear as it was upon the tongue. I went on to take advanced Old English. Dr. Roberts taught one other student and me in his office for two semesters. We were two eager young girls with our feet tucked beneath us in large leather chairs, ready to learn from a man whose wisdom we so deeply admired. That winter was a blessed time. Snow falling outside the window of Dr. Roberts' office while we read and translated word for word the entire text of Beowulf. By the time spring came we had finished our translation. As a gift for our many hours of dedicated work Dr. Roberts gave each of us a signed copy of his personal published translation of Beowulf. It is a treasured book in my library to this day.
After I graduated from university my life took a number of different turns and it was many years later that I decided to reconnect with my professor. Sadly, my dear Dr. Roberts had been tragically killed in a motorcycle accident while traveling in Wales. It broke my heart to not get to tell him how much he meant to me and how important a role he played in my life. Part of me supposes that he knew. But youth is not always respectful of the gifts bestowed. It takes time and perspective to gain genuine understanding of what was imparted by those who taught us when we were young. It was when my children took an interest in Beowulf that I began thinking of Dr. Roberts again. As I read and translated the text for my kids I heard the voice of Gildas Roberts patiently enunciating each separate sound of the Anglo Saxon words. Once more Beowulf came alive for me and I was able to incite in my kids the awe and wonder of the story of a hero and a monster.
How fortunate are we when we find our passion! There is a joy in it like none other. We are fully awake, alive in the pulse of our greatest existence. It is in our passion that we find our reason for being, our purpose, our right alignment with the spirit that guides us. I wish for you just such an awakening, just such a doorway into your passion. You deserve nothing less.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
happy by choice
So often I have found myself saying, "I'll be happy when..." My thinking put happiness in the future and placed its dependence on some event or thing or person coming into my life. It was as though happiness was something I had to wait for. It was not in the present, or at least the happiness I hoped for was not in the present. And I seemed content to live like that. Waiting for happiness to arrive.
Louise Hay, author of "You Can Heal Your Life," teaches that anything we want in life we need to affirm in the now. Say it like it already exists. "I am happy." The first time I said that I let the words resonate for a while. I said it over and over until I understood that to be happy is a choice. It is something I am or I am not, and either way I choose it. At first it was surprising and a little uncomfortable. I get to choose. It's up to me. It's in me. I don't have to wait for it, or hope for it, or long for it. I can be happy right now just by saying so and believing it.
We live in world filled with people who long for, wish for, and wait for, but cannot seem to get what they want. I have been one of those people. "Someday things will be better." Today I look in the mirror to have a upfront and personal conversation with the woman who is me and I tell her, "Someday is today." I know that the choice to be happy is all mine. No matter what has happened or will happen I am alive with the certainty and blessing that today is the day I am happy by choice.
If we choose to be happy so much of what we struggle with will ease. Like magic we will be surrounded by other happy people, drawn to us by the power of our choice. This simple truth can be applied in all other aspects of our life. What we think and what we believe draws to us and creates for us our reality.
Louise Hay, author of "You Can Heal Your Life," teaches that anything we want in life we need to affirm in the now. Say it like it already exists. "I am happy." The first time I said that I let the words resonate for a while. I said it over and over until I understood that to be happy is a choice. It is something I am or I am not, and either way I choose it. At first it was surprising and a little uncomfortable. I get to choose. It's up to me. It's in me. I don't have to wait for it, or hope for it, or long for it. I can be happy right now just by saying so and believing it.
We live in world filled with people who long for, wish for, and wait for, but cannot seem to get what they want. I have been one of those people. "Someday things will be better." Today I look in the mirror to have a upfront and personal conversation with the woman who is me and I tell her, "Someday is today." I know that the choice to be happy is all mine. No matter what has happened or will happen I am alive with the certainty and blessing that today is the day I am happy by choice.
If we choose to be happy so much of what we struggle with will ease. Like magic we will be surrounded by other happy people, drawn to us by the power of our choice. This simple truth can be applied in all other aspects of our life. What we think and what we believe draws to us and creates for us our reality.
Monday, July 26, 2010
make it one step at a time
In the evenings, my son and I have been hiking up South Mountain near our home in Phoenix. We go in the evenings because the sun is off the mountain at that time, making it a little less hot. July in Phoenix means the temperatures are never much below 110 degrees. It's our time to get some exercise, push ourselves a little, and to talk. I especially enjoy the talking part with my son. He's always funny and entertaining. Our goal is to make it to the top where we can collapse on the bench at the viewpoint for a few minutes of respite and water before we head back down.
When we start out on our walk the summit seems a long way off. The path is easy at first but as we hike up the mountain trail the climb grows more challenging. It's always the last 10 minutes when our talking slows because breathing is more labored from the effort of manouvering up the steep, rocky path. But once we see the end in sight we are motivated and excited to make it to the finish. Coming to the top we look out over the valley for a view well worth the effort. It is our reward. And as we look back down the path we climbed there is a sense of satisfaction that we made our way, one step at a time, to such a spectacular vantage point.
Starting a business is a lot like climbing a mountain. I know that sounds cliche. But think of it this way. The reward of climbing, working hard, and not giving up is getting to the place you most desire to be. Once you get there you can enjoy the view and take in the wonder of where you are, appreciating why you pushed on through the difficult moments to get to the top. So often we give up before reaching our goals because we lose sight of why we starting climbing in the first place. But when we persist we are truly blessed at the top.
Keep climbing. It is so worth it.
When we start out on our walk the summit seems a long way off. The path is easy at first but as we hike up the mountain trail the climb grows more challenging. It's always the last 10 minutes when our talking slows because breathing is more labored from the effort of manouvering up the steep, rocky path. But once we see the end in sight we are motivated and excited to make it to the finish. Coming to the top we look out over the valley for a view well worth the effort. It is our reward. And as we look back down the path we climbed there is a sense of satisfaction that we made our way, one step at a time, to such a spectacular vantage point.
Starting a business is a lot like climbing a mountain. I know that sounds cliche. But think of it this way. The reward of climbing, working hard, and not giving up is getting to the place you most desire to be. Once you get there you can enjoy the view and take in the wonder of where you are, appreciating why you pushed on through the difficult moments to get to the top. So often we give up before reaching our goals because we lose sight of why we starting climbing in the first place. But when we persist we are truly blessed at the top.
Keep climbing. It is so worth it.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
sacred space
When I was a young girl I would go walking in the woods near my house. I would tuck a book inside my jacket and walk along the trail, follow the old fence, and make my way through the under brush until I came to my tree. My tree. The one I climbed and pulled myself up until I came to that wide branch that curved up to the tree trunk creating a perfect seat for me. And there I would nestle myself into that wooden nook, out of view amongst the green leaves and and the shroud of trees surrounding my sacred space in the forest. For a while I would sit in the quiet to read and to think and to be with just myself. Lost to time and the demands of others.
It's been a lot of years since I sat in that tree or any other. I make it my practice though to sit quietly each day so that I may reconnect to the silence within, to the peace that is the soul. It is the act of withdrawing from the world to a softer inner place that allows us to return to the world reawakened and renewed. I carry the memory of my tree with me, returning to it in my mind whenever I long for a moment of bliss. I feel the curve of the tree at my back, hear the rustle of the leaves, and I slip back in time to my early joy of solitude. I close my eyes to go there. And when I return I open my eyes to see the world is always more beautiful after we have stepped away from the noise, be it ever so briefly.
Take time for yourself.
It's been a lot of years since I sat in that tree or any other. I make it my practice though to sit quietly each day so that I may reconnect to the silence within, to the peace that is the soul. It is the act of withdrawing from the world to a softer inner place that allows us to return to the world reawakened and renewed. I carry the memory of my tree with me, returning to it in my mind whenever I long for a moment of bliss. I feel the curve of the tree at my back, hear the rustle of the leaves, and I slip back in time to my early joy of solitude. I close my eyes to go there. And when I return I open my eyes to see the world is always more beautiful after we have stepped away from the noise, be it ever so briefly.
Take time for yourself.
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