Sometime in the last month, I heard an interview with comedian and now dramatic actor Bill Murray. In it he related that he had lost his smart phone recently and described how liberating it had been. He said, "The things you usually do get in the way of better things you could be or should be doing."
I am not sure I could live with out my smartphone, and yet, I really understand what he was saying. I love reading The Washington Post on my phone on the way to and from work. It is great to catch up on my email on the train so when I get home, I can devote my attention to other endeavors. The reminders of birthdays and special events have prevented me from missing landmarks. My calendar gets me where I am "supposed to be" more often than not. The My Fitness Pal app has helped me lose 15 pounds this year. I've even been learning Spanish as I walk and ride about.
Yet while there is immeasurable value in my smartphone, so much is lost along the way, and I think that is what Murray was relating. Pre-device days, I used to actually have conversations with strangers on the train. Some would share funny stories or new pieces of music they had discovered. When I was looking for a job, a man once told me about one in his agency that might be a good fit. Now, everyone is hunkered over their device with ear buds in place. With the exception of an occasional pair that get on the train together, I almost never see anyone talking these days. So among those better things we could or should be doing, connecting with our fellow humans might be one.
The concept of my book Choice Point was to be totally present in the moment and choose second to second what we should be doing in that moment. While there are days, like this one, when I unplug most of the time, when I find myself doing what Murray described, I stop letting the things I usually do get in the way of what I could/should be doing. I just listen...to my body, to my heart, and to my inspirations.
As I went to bed last night, I had several things that I wanted to do today, beginning with going to church. Generally, on the weekend, I don't set my alarm, and most of the time I wake up after about eight or nine hours of sleep. I find it delicious to wake up on my own though, even if I am not sleeping a lot more. Last night I slept 10-1/2 hours, which meant that I missed church. It also meant that my body must need more rest. I allowed this day to be one of those days in which I did what I could/should be doing--what I knew in my heart, instead of what I usually did--what was programmed into my schedule.
I did enjoyed time in the kitchen, something that I usually do, but also something I love. Then I turned my schedule upside down and meditated for a couple of hours, gaining clear insight on something with which I've been wrestling. I dug out my hard copy of Choice Point because I haven't read it in a while, and in my meditation, I got that it was time to revisit the book. While I know there is rewriting needed, my sense is that this visit is for my personal spiritual learning I need. So the day is some, but not earth-shatteringly different. Yet, I feel so much freer by having listened to my internal compass as opposed to responding to reminders and habits driven by my smart phone.
Showing posts with label Listen to my heart. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Listen to my heart. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 18, 2015
Sunday, November 23, 2014
Feeling Alive
I was at a professional meeting over 20 years ago where we were engaged in dialogue, attempting to support each other in learning "the Truth." One executive said he had a simple rule about what to do in life: "Do what brings you to life and life to you." When I've pondered decisions and remembered to do so, it has proven good advice for me. I am amazed how often when there are two alternatives, almost always one sparks my heart, and the other leaves me feeling lifeless.
I think that what he was saying was to follow your heart because when I do, I am energized. Even when I've had no experience with something before, my heart will point me in the right direction.
As I faced the summer between the years of graduate school, I had two choices for internships. One was with a Fortune 100 company, would have paid well, and perhaps would have led to a permanent job after graduate school. The other was unpaid and with an unknown company. I sat with a counselor who simply asked me about the paid internship, "Is it a 'yes' or a 'no'?" In that instant, I knew: it was a "no."
That summer was among the most joyful in my life. In my work with the small unknown company, I was learning every day. The work allowed me independence in solving a very complex problem. What I learned that summer has served me well in the over 20 years since then. As I've learned more about myself since that time, I know I would have been spiritually dead in the other internship. Although it most certainly would have provided me a more lucrative and secure career track, it would have been a terrible mistake.
For my whole life, I've wanted to dance. As a kid, when my family was out of the house, I'd pull the drapes closed and twirl like a dervish. Nothing in my childhood brought more life to me. For a lot of reasons, I never pursued dance until a health crisis. When threatened with paraplegia, I knew the only thing I would have missed was dance. I came through the crisis with healthy life and limb. AND, I began to dance. Never, ever have I had more joy than when I dance. Time and space stop, and magic happens.
A torn hamstring has laid me low since September, and I haven't danced since then until last Sunday. On my doctor's advice, I only danced one or two songs and then sat out the same amount of time...and I left after an hour. That was really hard, but I knew that I needed to be prudent if I wanted to get back to a dance floor on a regular basis. Yet even only dancing for 30 minutes, I was aware of how alive I felt. Long after I left the ballroom, I felt like my heart was skipping a beat in a good way, and energy surged through me for a couple days.
I am going to give it a go again tonight...cautiously. Even though I know I must exercise control, my heart has raced all afternoon with anticipation. I truly do feel alive. And, just as I intuitively knew all those years before I danced that it was calling me, I know that this evening will jump start my aliveness again.
For many years I was pretty good at following my heart; then, our overly logical world gradually eroded the receivers of my heart's messages while deafening control from my head has taken control. As I contemplate an evening of dance again and how alive it will make me feel, I wonder how I soften the messages of my head while accentuating those from my heart again. As they always did before, I am certain that they will not fail me, even when I do not understand them. Somehow, they just know.
I think that what he was saying was to follow your heart because when I do, I am energized. Even when I've had no experience with something before, my heart will point me in the right direction.
As I faced the summer between the years of graduate school, I had two choices for internships. One was with a Fortune 100 company, would have paid well, and perhaps would have led to a permanent job after graduate school. The other was unpaid and with an unknown company. I sat with a counselor who simply asked me about the paid internship, "Is it a 'yes' or a 'no'?" In that instant, I knew: it was a "no."
That summer was among the most joyful in my life. In my work with the small unknown company, I was learning every day. The work allowed me independence in solving a very complex problem. What I learned that summer has served me well in the over 20 years since then. As I've learned more about myself since that time, I know I would have been spiritually dead in the other internship. Although it most certainly would have provided me a more lucrative and secure career track, it would have been a terrible mistake.
For my whole life, I've wanted to dance. As a kid, when my family was out of the house, I'd pull the drapes closed and twirl like a dervish. Nothing in my childhood brought more life to me. For a lot of reasons, I never pursued dance until a health crisis. When threatened with paraplegia, I knew the only thing I would have missed was dance. I came through the crisis with healthy life and limb. AND, I began to dance. Never, ever have I had more joy than when I dance. Time and space stop, and magic happens.
A torn hamstring has laid me low since September, and I haven't danced since then until last Sunday. On my doctor's advice, I only danced one or two songs and then sat out the same amount of time...and I left after an hour. That was really hard, but I knew that I needed to be prudent if I wanted to get back to a dance floor on a regular basis. Yet even only dancing for 30 minutes, I was aware of how alive I felt. Long after I left the ballroom, I felt like my heart was skipping a beat in a good way, and energy surged through me for a couple days.
I am going to give it a go again tonight...cautiously. Even though I know I must exercise control, my heart has raced all afternoon with anticipation. I truly do feel alive. And, just as I intuitively knew all those years before I danced that it was calling me, I know that this evening will jump start my aliveness again.
For many years I was pretty good at following my heart; then, our overly logical world gradually eroded the receivers of my heart's messages while deafening control from my head has taken control. As I contemplate an evening of dance again and how alive it will make me feel, I wonder how I soften the messages of my head while accentuating those from my heart again. As they always did before, I am certain that they will not fail me, even when I do not understand them. Somehow, they just know.
Monday, September 29, 2014
Listening Deeply
Readers: please note that this post should have been posted early. My challenges with technology resulted in it laying in drafts. I hope it will provide continuity to this current pilgrimage that may have been missing.
From sometime in 1995 or 1996 until June 1998, I frequently heard messages in my meditations that I should go to a country in which English was not a dominant language. I was to take no credit cards and very little cash. I was to take one carry-on bag and to follow where I was led. Mostly, I ignored.
Those were days when I was writing and generating more outflow than income. Even though I was to take little cash and no credit cards, I thought I couldn't afford such a venture.
In June of 1998 I worked a conference in Greece--very, very long hours. After four days, the conference moved from Athens to the Greek island of Rhodes late at night. I was fatigued and almost immediately fell asleep. Suddenly, I was awakened by a booming voice. It repeated the messages I'd been getting, but this time with more specificity. "You are to come back to Greece before summer's end...with little cash and no credit cards." More details followed.
Awakened from a deep sleep, I sat bolt up in my plane seat. Looking around at a sea of sleeping passengers, I was shocked that I appeared to be the only one awakened by the commanding voice.
Really?!
I got it. When I returned from my business trip, I immediately made air reservations to return for 30 days, the minimum time for which I'd been directed. I'd been given a number of other details, to which I rendered complete attention. The rest amounted to nothing less than a mystical adventure, much more of which will be detailed in my memoir. Suffice it to say, I've never been the same since that journey.
In early spring of this year, I was exhausted and began shopping for a trip. I am a bargain/adventure traveler, since 1998 most often traveling to a foreign airport and going wherever spirit leads. For weeks I shopped travel sites, looking for bargain air fares. In at least two months, the best fares kept coming up to Athens.
I wasn't sure that I was ready for what another Greek adventure promised. Finally, I relented. As soon as I booked, a plethora of other destinations presented, so I was certain I was supposed to be in Greece again.
Three months ago I picked up two travel guides to Greece, but was totally uninterested in them until three weeks ago. Somehow I knew it would be clear to me where to go.
On more than one occasion, I've heard the big booming directive; those are easy for me to follow. Harder are the subtler signs. I've written at length about how guidance comes to us, but over the last several days, I've thought I was receiving contradictory messages. I talked with a friend about which was true. I prayed about it yet no clarity came.
I've written that when several people give similar advice, it is probably more than human advice. Four people have urged specifically that I go to Crete and Santorini. Those two islands from more than 300 Greek islands. Yet that just didn't seem right.
Then three weeks ago I found a note from a friend, written in 1998, urging me to go to Galaxidhi at that time. I swear that I don't remember ever seeing the note before. Was finding it now "a sign?" I went to the referenced website, but it didn't seem quite right either.
For several years, I've thought of going to the Peloponnese. Galaxidhi was close, but not quite right. When I read about the Peloponnese in my guide books, two little towns jumped off the pages. One of my friends, who had urged Crete and Santorini, told me I didn't want to go there. I have just let decisions go, being certain that "where" would be clear to me when I needed to know.
Friday I traveled to Athens. I don't sleep in planes so Saturday evening I fell into bed at 8, some 37 hours without sleep. I had no idea what was next, but as I fell asleep, I set the intention that I would know in the morning.
I awakened slightly at 6 this morning, long enough to "rest" myself and fall back asleep, but with no clarity yet as to where I was to go. At 10:15, after the long sleep for which my body yearned, I sat right up in bed, and in an instant I knew where I was to go: the two towns in the Peloponnese that I'd felt were right in the beginning.
I jumped up and looked in the guidebook for commuting details. I quickly gathered my things, got directions to the bus terminal, and sped off, arriving at my bus just 8 minutes before it departed.
After just a few hours here, I know this is right. I do not know what else awaits me on this peninsula-turned-island, but I know enough that I can feel in my bones that what I knew in my heart from the beginning is right. I literally "fell" into a little hotel with a lovely garden this afternoon shortly after arriving. I think I will extend for another day, but that won't be clear until morning. I'm OK with that.
As I surrender my need to know once again, I find an incredible freedom and relaxation. Without itinerary or schedules to meet, there is nothing to stress me. I need only be in the present. Earlier this evening, I truly enjoyed a marvelous meal, followed by a walk along the Argolic Gulf, as the sun slipped into the horizon. I chuckled at swimmers below me over the cliffs and wondered at the cacti, which were about to bloom so near the water. Absolutely nothing distracting me from the moment.
My intention as this new cycle begins is to open my heart and find intimacy and love. I guess those things begin being here, wherever I am. For now, that is where I am.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
From sometime in 1995 or 1996 until June 1998, I frequently heard messages in my meditations that I should go to a country in which English was not a dominant language. I was to take no credit cards and very little cash. I was to take one carry-on bag and to follow where I was led. Mostly, I ignored.
Those were days when I was writing and generating more outflow than income. Even though I was to take little cash and no credit cards, I thought I couldn't afford such a venture.
In June of 1998 I worked a conference in Greece--very, very long hours. After four days, the conference moved from Athens to the Greek island of Rhodes late at night. I was fatigued and almost immediately fell asleep. Suddenly, I was awakened by a booming voice. It repeated the messages I'd been getting, but this time with more specificity. "You are to come back to Greece before summer's end...with little cash and no credit cards." More details followed.
Awakened from a deep sleep, I sat bolt up in my plane seat. Looking around at a sea of sleeping passengers, I was shocked that I appeared to be the only one awakened by the commanding voice.
Really?!
I got it. When I returned from my business trip, I immediately made air reservations to return for 30 days, the minimum time for which I'd been directed. I'd been given a number of other details, to which I rendered complete attention. The rest amounted to nothing less than a mystical adventure, much more of which will be detailed in my memoir. Suffice it to say, I've never been the same since that journey.
In early spring of this year, I was exhausted and began shopping for a trip. I am a bargain/adventure traveler, since 1998 most often traveling to a foreign airport and going wherever spirit leads. For weeks I shopped travel sites, looking for bargain air fares. In at least two months, the best fares kept coming up to Athens.
I wasn't sure that I was ready for what another Greek adventure promised. Finally, I relented. As soon as I booked, a plethora of other destinations presented, so I was certain I was supposed to be in Greece again.
Three months ago I picked up two travel guides to Greece, but was totally uninterested in them until three weeks ago. Somehow I knew it would be clear to me where to go.
On more than one occasion, I've heard the big booming directive; those are easy for me to follow. Harder are the subtler signs. I've written at length about how guidance comes to us, but over the last several days, I've thought I was receiving contradictory messages. I talked with a friend about which was true. I prayed about it yet no clarity came.
I've written that when several people give similar advice, it is probably more than human advice. Four people have urged specifically that I go to Crete and Santorini. Those two islands from more than 300 Greek islands. Yet that just didn't seem right.
Then three weeks ago I found a note from a friend, written in 1998, urging me to go to Galaxidhi at that time. I swear that I don't remember ever seeing the note before. Was finding it now "a sign?" I went to the referenced website, but it didn't seem quite right either.
For several years, I've thought of going to the Peloponnese. Galaxidhi was close, but not quite right. When I read about the Peloponnese in my guide books, two little towns jumped off the pages. One of my friends, who had urged Crete and Santorini, told me I didn't want to go there. I have just let decisions go, being certain that "where" would be clear to me when I needed to know.
Friday I traveled to Athens. I don't sleep in planes so Saturday evening I fell into bed at 8, some 37 hours without sleep. I had no idea what was next, but as I fell asleep, I set the intention that I would know in the morning.
I awakened slightly at 6 this morning, long enough to "rest" myself and fall back asleep, but with no clarity yet as to where I was to go. At 10:15, after the long sleep for which my body yearned, I sat right up in bed, and in an instant I knew where I was to go: the two towns in the Peloponnese that I'd felt were right in the beginning.
I jumped up and looked in the guidebook for commuting details. I quickly gathered my things, got directions to the bus terminal, and sped off, arriving at my bus just 8 minutes before it departed.
After just a few hours here, I know this is right. I do not know what else awaits me on this peninsula-turned-island, but I know enough that I can feel in my bones that what I knew in my heart from the beginning is right. I literally "fell" into a little hotel with a lovely garden this afternoon shortly after arriving. I think I will extend for another day, but that won't be clear until morning. I'm OK with that.
As I surrender my need to know once again, I find an incredible freedom and relaxation. Without itinerary or schedules to meet, there is nothing to stress me. I need only be in the present. Earlier this evening, I truly enjoyed a marvelous meal, followed by a walk along the Argolic Gulf, as the sun slipped into the horizon. I chuckled at swimmers below me over the cliffs and wondered at the cacti, which were about to bloom so near the water. Absolutely nothing distracting me from the moment.
My intention as this new cycle begins is to open my heart and find intimacy and love. I guess those things begin being here, wherever I am. For now, that is where I am.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Thursday, February 13, 2014
The new "normal"
Last week I posed the quandary, if everything is a gift, then what is the value of a cold? (2/5) After struggling with this "gift" for over two weeks, today finally, I have the answer. When it is all over, it feels so good to just feel "normal." Most of the time, I don't even think about how I feel when I am "normal." Today I did, and I really liked it.
I didn't bound out of bed feeling great, but "gained speed" as the day moved on. My snow day allowed me a full night's sleep, and being home alone rested my voice that was mostly absent by the end of a day of facilitating yesterday. I struggled with computer problems all morning, but like a cold, a computer that works make "normal" remarkable.
I started hitting my stride by early afternoon and took a long lunch break for hall-walking again (2/6,) putting in a full hour. I got my heart rate up enough to cough out the last of the remaining congestion. That's not all it did, though. For 30 years, I've been an athlete. My body responds well to movement. Yet, I haven't moved regularly for a long time. Between injuries and long hours, exercise has taken the back seat in my life. Like the end of colds and working computers, the feeling of movement was a great "normal."
All afternoon, I felt supercharged as I plowed through the rest of the afternoon of teleworking like a breeze. When I finally stopped at 6:30, I could hardly believe how quickly the time had flown. This isn't new for me. Whenever I pull myself away from my desk to exercise at noon at the office, the afternoon always goes faster, I am more productive, and to me even more important, I am more creative. I am "in the zone," and exercise is the trigger. So, why have I let everything else come first? That shall remain among life's great questions, but I suspect it has something to do with thinking the work is more important than I am.
As soon as I got moving today, my body ached to move more. When I contemplated a cookie for dessert, it said to me, "If you eat it, you want to work it off!" Not "have" to work it off, but "want" to, and I did. I got out my stop watch and walked five floors before eating my cookie. And, I ate the cookie, I really enjoyed it. But unlike other times when one cookie makes me want another and another, this time I was satisfied. Instead of wanting another cookie, what I really wanted was more movement. I flipped on the Olympics and lifted some light weights and did 115 crunches while watching some free-style skiers give "movement" all new meaning.
Today was rich with Aha! moments. None of these were really new Aha! moments, but perhaps the biggest Aha! was recognizing how quickly I forget what I know in my heart to be true. You see, I believe that our intentions don't come from our brains, but they are born in our hearts. We don't make them up, but we hear them pleading for us to re-member who we are through our intentions. We choose to listen moment-by-moment, all day, every day.
Although no one who knew me as a child, or a teenager would believe it, when I started listening to my heart three decades ago, one of the first things I learned about me was that I am a healthy person. I just needed to find the healthy person, and I did, soon running 50 miles a week and bringing consciousness to my eating for the first time. For much of those 30 years, I have eaten very healthfully and exercised regularly. Today I listened to my heart again, and what it was saying was "Please remember to move! I want to me 'normal' again." Yes, there is something most remarkable about "normal."
I didn't bound out of bed feeling great, but "gained speed" as the day moved on. My snow day allowed me a full night's sleep, and being home alone rested my voice that was mostly absent by the end of a day of facilitating yesterday. I struggled with computer problems all morning, but like a cold, a computer that works make "normal" remarkable.
I started hitting my stride by early afternoon and took a long lunch break for hall-walking again (2/6,) putting in a full hour. I got my heart rate up enough to cough out the last of the remaining congestion. That's not all it did, though. For 30 years, I've been an athlete. My body responds well to movement. Yet, I haven't moved regularly for a long time. Between injuries and long hours, exercise has taken the back seat in my life. Like the end of colds and working computers, the feeling of movement was a great "normal."
All afternoon, I felt supercharged as I plowed through the rest of the afternoon of teleworking like a breeze. When I finally stopped at 6:30, I could hardly believe how quickly the time had flown. This isn't new for me. Whenever I pull myself away from my desk to exercise at noon at the office, the afternoon always goes faster, I am more productive, and to me even more important, I am more creative. I am "in the zone," and exercise is the trigger. So, why have I let everything else come first? That shall remain among life's great questions, but I suspect it has something to do with thinking the work is more important than I am.
As soon as I got moving today, my body ached to move more. When I contemplated a cookie for dessert, it said to me, "If you eat it, you want to work it off!" Not "have" to work it off, but "want" to, and I did. I got out my stop watch and walked five floors before eating my cookie. And, I ate the cookie, I really enjoyed it. But unlike other times when one cookie makes me want another and another, this time I was satisfied. Instead of wanting another cookie, what I really wanted was more movement. I flipped on the Olympics and lifted some light weights and did 115 crunches while watching some free-style skiers give "movement" all new meaning.
Today was rich with Aha! moments. None of these were really new Aha! moments, but perhaps the biggest Aha! was recognizing how quickly I forget what I know in my heart to be true. You see, I believe that our intentions don't come from our brains, but they are born in our hearts. We don't make them up, but we hear them pleading for us to re-member who we are through our intentions. We choose to listen moment-by-moment, all day, every day.
Although no one who knew me as a child, or a teenager would believe it, when I started listening to my heart three decades ago, one of the first things I learned about me was that I am a healthy person. I just needed to find the healthy person, and I did, soon running 50 miles a week and bringing consciousness to my eating for the first time. For much of those 30 years, I have eaten very healthfully and exercised regularly. Today I listened to my heart again, and what it was saying was "Please remember to move! I want to me 'normal' again." Yes, there is something most remarkable about "normal."
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Trusting What I Know
At sometime or another, most of us have had a deep knowing about something--something we knew or something we should do--that was counter-rational. Everything was telling us that logically what we know in our hearts is wrong, but in our guts, we know we are right. Most times, if not all the time, days, weeks, or months later, what we knew is proven correct.
This weekend I had the occasion to talk with two people I haven't seen for a while, and each asked me about my work. I told them about how I love my clients, and I do. I told them how some of my projects are really interesting, and they are. Then, I told them how I had to stay in my current employment for another year for financial reasons that are too complicated too attempt to explain here.
In my heart, I know I should go, but every bit of rationality tells me that I must wait a year. So, I wait...in pain for time to pass that is like watching ice melt in winter. In my heart, I know that I should leap, even if I don't know what I am leaping to. In my heart, I know I am dying where I am. What has me frozen in place?
After the dot.com bust, when I lost my business and everything with it, I yearned for a secure job, and that is what I have now. Finances were a major piece of that picture, but for me, just as important was the fact that I no longer felt I was making a contribution. I had spent my whole career helping people in workplaces, and suddenly, I didn't have that opportunity. Being of service in my work is a major motivator for me, and I had no one to serve.
Although as a young person, I had always wanted to be a teacher, when I started teaching university students how to be better future managers and leaders, I knew it wasn't a fit. Oh, it was probably more of a fit than teaching history or political science, which is what I thought I wanted to do when I first went to college, but I'd done work I loved and knew this just was exactly right for me. I'd spent my career working directly with managers and leaders with their current challenges. I just never quite got as excited about teaching these same topics. Yet, I was serving, and that motivated me. Creating a different kind of class that students were excited about...that motivated me.
I've wrestled with this question for several months now: why am I afraid to leap? The quick and easy answer is always financial. But, today, suddenly it occurred to me: what if I didn't find a way to serve? I believe that is more terrifying than being down to my last $300. Now I will go to work tomorrow and each day, not for the financial benefit, but because I have the opportunity to work with a lot of fine people who let me serve them...and even appreciate my service. That is what keeps me where I am, and that I truly know in my heart.
This weekend I had the occasion to talk with two people I haven't seen for a while, and each asked me about my work. I told them about how I love my clients, and I do. I told them how some of my projects are really interesting, and they are. Then, I told them how I had to stay in my current employment for another year for financial reasons that are too complicated too attempt to explain here.
In my heart, I know I should go, but every bit of rationality tells me that I must wait a year. So, I wait...in pain for time to pass that is like watching ice melt in winter. In my heart, I know that I should leap, even if I don't know what I am leaping to. In my heart, I know I am dying where I am. What has me frozen in place?
After the dot.com bust, when I lost my business and everything with it, I yearned for a secure job, and that is what I have now. Finances were a major piece of that picture, but for me, just as important was the fact that I no longer felt I was making a contribution. I had spent my whole career helping people in workplaces, and suddenly, I didn't have that opportunity. Being of service in my work is a major motivator for me, and I had no one to serve.
Although as a young person, I had always wanted to be a teacher, when I started teaching university students how to be better future managers and leaders, I knew it wasn't a fit. Oh, it was probably more of a fit than teaching history or political science, which is what I thought I wanted to do when I first went to college, but I'd done work I loved and knew this just was exactly right for me. I'd spent my career working directly with managers and leaders with their current challenges. I just never quite got as excited about teaching these same topics. Yet, I was serving, and that motivated me. Creating a different kind of class that students were excited about...that motivated me.
I've wrestled with this question for several months now: why am I afraid to leap? The quick and easy answer is always financial. But, today, suddenly it occurred to me: what if I didn't find a way to serve? I believe that is more terrifying than being down to my last $300. Now I will go to work tomorrow and each day, not for the financial benefit, but because I have the opportunity to work with a lot of fine people who let me serve them...and even appreciate my service. That is what keeps me where I am, and that I truly know in my heart.
Monday, November 25, 2013
Day-to-Day Courage
Spiritual teacher Carolyn Myss has said the most important lesson we have to learn is to be present. If being present seems like a theme in this blog, that is only because so many spiritual paths lead to the same place: the need to be present.
Yesterday I wrote about the pity party I'd had when attempting to "be still!" What a waste of energy! It is probably early in the second half of my life, and anyone who watches any kind of game or match knows that the only thing that counts is the score at the end. My pity party was looking backward and what hadn't gone the way I thought it should have or fretting about the future. In the present all is well.
"March to the beat of a different drummer" is how Thoreau put it. Scott Peck and Robert Frost described it as "The Road Less Traveled." The customized recipe for a life well lived is written on the back of each heart. (See "Partnering With Our Hearts, 10/5/2013) The recipe is revealed to me, one step at a time, after the stillness as I ask for guidance in the moment. My recipe would not be the same as those of others. I need to do what I need to do right now without having a clue what the outcome will be or how it connects with anything else. Success can only be judged at the end of the game.
The word courage derives from the word for "heart." It takes a lot of courage to listen to the heart and follow it, without regard to the past or the future...just being in the here and now. That is why it is so important for us to be present in the present, acting with the day-to-day courage to live the life our souls came to live.
At the end of my life--not at half-time or three-quarter time or even two minutes from the end of my game, I want to judge my success by what I gave and how I evolved my soul, not by anything else...no matter how much courage it takes. So far, there have been times when this journey has taken more courage than I could imagine ever having. But being present in each moment, I took leaps of faith that I would never have taken if I'd thought about it. It will continue to take courage. How can I not have the courage to live my well-lived life?
Yesterday I wrote about the pity party I'd had when attempting to "be still!" What a waste of energy! It is probably early in the second half of my life, and anyone who watches any kind of game or match knows that the only thing that counts is the score at the end. My pity party was looking backward and what hadn't gone the way I thought it should have or fretting about the future. In the present all is well.
"March to the beat of a different drummer" is how Thoreau put it. Scott Peck and Robert Frost described it as "The Road Less Traveled." The customized recipe for a life well lived is written on the back of each heart. (See "Partnering With Our Hearts, 10/5/2013) The recipe is revealed to me, one step at a time, after the stillness as I ask for guidance in the moment. My recipe would not be the same as those of others. I need to do what I need to do right now without having a clue what the outcome will be or how it connects with anything else. Success can only be judged at the end of the game.
The word courage derives from the word for "heart." It takes a lot of courage to listen to the heart and follow it, without regard to the past or the future...just being in the here and now. That is why it is so important for us to be present in the present, acting with the day-to-day courage to live the life our souls came to live.
At the end of my life--not at half-time or three-quarter time or even two minutes from the end of my game, I want to judge my success by what I gave and how I evolved my soul, not by anything else...no matter how much courage it takes. So far, there have been times when this journey has taken more courage than I could imagine ever having. But being present in each moment, I took leaps of faith that I would never have taken if I'd thought about it. It will continue to take courage. How can I not have the courage to live my well-lived life?
Saturday, October 5, 2013
Partnering with our hearts
In order to evolve spiritually, we need to listen to our hearts. They are encrypted with a unique code that tells each one of us what we should be doing at any time in order to grow, perform service, and to use our gifts and talents. If we frequently take just a second to ask, "What would you have me do?" we will unfailingly be guided to accomplish what we are here to accomplish.
Two challenges haunt me as I attempt to live this way. The first is just remembering to check in. It seems that I am tuned in one second and on autopilot the next doing what I'd planned to so. The second is doing exactly what I am told when I am told to do it. Now that flies right in the face of most of what we have been taught. We are supposed to set goals, plan ahead, and fill our calendars, often months in advance. The current thinking is that we don't set out to do something unless we know how to accomplish it and how we are going to pay for it, and rarely do our hearts give us a fully developed strategy and step-by-step plan to follow. In fact, more often than not, we are only told the first step. If we keep checking in at each step, we will be guided flawlessly without ever knowing more than one step ahead. Being in the mystery is what it is about.
Consider this story. A number of years ago when I was living in the rainy Pacific Northwest, I decided I needed to live in a sunnier place. I asked my heart for guidance. (I often clarify, "Send me a sign--a real clear sign that even I can get." Within the next 18 hours, I received six very clear messages that North Carolina was my place, beginning within five minutes when I walked in a bookstore and overheard a conversation, "I hear North Carolina is a great place to live." The last of the six was the banner headline of my Oregon newspaper the next morning shouting, "NC best place to live."
I had my sign. What next? I had received no additional guidance, until I was awakened at 3 a.m. with a dream that made it clear that I was supposed to be in North Carolina on October 19. I got up in the middle of the night and made my reservation. Over the next nine months, a path as easy as the parting of the Red Sea opened for me. I met someone at a conference in San Francisco, who was instrumental in meeting a realtor and business contacts. I met someone else at a conference in South Carolina who introduced me to what would be my inner circle of friends during the first years I was in NC. Even the house that I bought became available in the middle of the day on the day I was told to shop for a house. I've had moves across town that were harder than this cross-country move.
With all that said, when I arrived in Durham, N. C., on July 31, 1995, I had no job and all the clients of my consulting business were about as far from me as they could be and still be in the US. However, I was certain that this was going to work out. Within three days of my arrival, I had two major pieces of business back in Oregon that were willing to pay travel expenses, and the contracts were sufficient to support me for my first 10 months. Furthermore, a couple months later, a client with work in China hired me, and I was able to extend my monthly trip to the West Coast on to Beijing. Even though I hadn't known how known how I would support myself when I arrived, my first year living in NC ended up being the best revenue year since starting my business.
I could share many stories like the one above in which doors I couldn't have anticipated just miraculously opened when I listened and followed. I haven't always understood how things were going to work out or even why I was supposed to do certain things, but never once when I was following my heart, have I been misled.
That's not to say things have always worked out perfectly, but those times happened when I either didn't ask or didn't follow or didn't follow in a timely way. More about that tomorrow.
Two challenges haunt me as I attempt to live this way. The first is just remembering to check in. It seems that I am tuned in one second and on autopilot the next doing what I'd planned to so. The second is doing exactly what I am told when I am told to do it. Now that flies right in the face of most of what we have been taught. We are supposed to set goals, plan ahead, and fill our calendars, often months in advance. The current thinking is that we don't set out to do something unless we know how to accomplish it and how we are going to pay for it, and rarely do our hearts give us a fully developed strategy and step-by-step plan to follow. In fact, more often than not, we are only told the first step. If we keep checking in at each step, we will be guided flawlessly without ever knowing more than one step ahead. Being in the mystery is what it is about.
Consider this story. A number of years ago when I was living in the rainy Pacific Northwest, I decided I needed to live in a sunnier place. I asked my heart for guidance. (I often clarify, "Send me a sign--a real clear sign that even I can get." Within the next 18 hours, I received six very clear messages that North Carolina was my place, beginning within five minutes when I walked in a bookstore and overheard a conversation, "I hear North Carolina is a great place to live." The last of the six was the banner headline of my Oregon newspaper the next morning shouting, "NC best place to live."
I had my sign. What next? I had received no additional guidance, until I was awakened at 3 a.m. with a dream that made it clear that I was supposed to be in North Carolina on October 19. I got up in the middle of the night and made my reservation. Over the next nine months, a path as easy as the parting of the Red Sea opened for me. I met someone at a conference in San Francisco, who was instrumental in meeting a realtor and business contacts. I met someone else at a conference in South Carolina who introduced me to what would be my inner circle of friends during the first years I was in NC. Even the house that I bought became available in the middle of the day on the day I was told to shop for a house. I've had moves across town that were harder than this cross-country move.
With all that said, when I arrived in Durham, N. C., on July 31, 1995, I had no job and all the clients of my consulting business were about as far from me as they could be and still be in the US. However, I was certain that this was going to work out. Within three days of my arrival, I had two major pieces of business back in Oregon that were willing to pay travel expenses, and the contracts were sufficient to support me for my first 10 months. Furthermore, a couple months later, a client with work in China hired me, and I was able to extend my monthly trip to the West Coast on to Beijing. Even though I hadn't known how known how I would support myself when I arrived, my first year living in NC ended up being the best revenue year since starting my business.
I could share many stories like the one above in which doors I couldn't have anticipated just miraculously opened when I listened and followed. I haven't always understood how things were going to work out or even why I was supposed to do certain things, but never once when I was following my heart, have I been misled.
That's not to say things have always worked out perfectly, but those times happened when I either didn't ask or didn't follow or didn't follow in a timely way. More about that tomorrow.
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Forgiveness
Meditation truly is a gift I give myself. This morning I took my 20 minutes and extended it by 30. I was wrestling with understanding what is Truth. As I went deeper and deeper, the contradictions became more intense and then they melted away.
I have written previously about the several spiritual statements or affirmations that I recently adopted. This morning as I meditated I found myself lingering on one: "Forgiveness is how I return to God/Love." I thought I'd forgiven those in my life for what they'd done to me. Then the questions came. Have I really forgiven if I still carry resentment? Have I really forgiven if I still guard myself or am wary? Of course not.
Then I attempted to forgive; I wanted to get to the place where I could feel nothing but unconditional love. As I went deeper, I found that in each of the two relationships I lingered with I had accountability. Hmmpf. :-) Did I not know this part?
For several years I provided spiritual coaching in three-day, one-on-one intentional living intensives. Each was unique to the person with whom I was working, and my guides would give me unique coaching questions and exercises for that person. Most were used only once. However, for most a similar exercise on forgiveness was given to me. It always involved three levels of forgiveness: acts which the client needed to forgive others for, acts for which the client needed to ask for forgiveness, and acts for which the client needed to forgive him- or herself. Finally, we'd explore the gifts that had resulted from hurtful circumstances.
As I meditated on forgiveness this morning, these three levels kept intertwining. Back and forth, I went from offering forgiveness to asking for forgiveness to forgiving myself and back again. Then I drifted deeper. I'd written two books on fear and courage: were fear and courage not really about forgiveness? If there were always gifts, why would I not have courage? Why would I be afraid?
Almost when I felt like I'd gotten to the bottom of understanding the relationship between fear and courage and forgiveness, I found myself going broader. I've always thought that my purpose was to help people find the place of pure Love that dwells inside themselves and connect to the place of pure Love that dwells in each of their fellow human beings. When I had been meditating on my new affirmations a few weeks ago, what had come was that my purpose was the forgiveness of all human kind. I thought I'd just go with it since that is what came, but thought my real purpose was connect us to and through Love.
Only this morning in this meditation did I realize that they were the same. Only this morning did I realize that the reason the forgiveness exercise was always given to me for clients while other exercises were unique was that my purpose was forgiveness. These clients wouldn't have been brought to me if they didn't need to learn forgiveness. The Aha! moment for me was that forgiveness is my gateway to Love; it is the gateway through which I lead others to find pure Love. Without forgiveness, we will never find that place in ourselves where we are Love, and we certainly will never find that place in others where they are pure Love.
This knowing didn't come printed on bulletin boards: it came from listening to what I know in my heart. This wisdom came because I showed up to listen and floated through lots of clutter to the crystal clarity of what I know.
I have written previously about the several spiritual statements or affirmations that I recently adopted. This morning as I meditated I found myself lingering on one: "Forgiveness is how I return to God/Love." I thought I'd forgiven those in my life for what they'd done to me. Then the questions came. Have I really forgiven if I still carry resentment? Have I really forgiven if I still guard myself or am wary? Of course not.
Then I attempted to forgive; I wanted to get to the place where I could feel nothing but unconditional love. As I went deeper, I found that in each of the two relationships I lingered with I had accountability. Hmmpf. :-) Did I not know this part?
For several years I provided spiritual coaching in three-day, one-on-one intentional living intensives. Each was unique to the person with whom I was working, and my guides would give me unique coaching questions and exercises for that person. Most were used only once. However, for most a similar exercise on forgiveness was given to me. It always involved three levels of forgiveness: acts which the client needed to forgive others for, acts for which the client needed to ask for forgiveness, and acts for which the client needed to forgive him- or herself. Finally, we'd explore the gifts that had resulted from hurtful circumstances.
As I meditated on forgiveness this morning, these three levels kept intertwining. Back and forth, I went from offering forgiveness to asking for forgiveness to forgiving myself and back again. Then I drifted deeper. I'd written two books on fear and courage: were fear and courage not really about forgiveness? If there were always gifts, why would I not have courage? Why would I be afraid?
Almost when I felt like I'd gotten to the bottom of understanding the relationship between fear and courage and forgiveness, I found myself going broader. I've always thought that my purpose was to help people find the place of pure Love that dwells inside themselves and connect to the place of pure Love that dwells in each of their fellow human beings. When I had been meditating on my new affirmations a few weeks ago, what had come was that my purpose was the forgiveness of all human kind. I thought I'd just go with it since that is what came, but thought my real purpose was connect us to and through Love.
Only this morning in this meditation did I realize that they were the same. Only this morning did I realize that the reason the forgiveness exercise was always given to me for clients while other exercises were unique was that my purpose was forgiveness. These clients wouldn't have been brought to me if they didn't need to learn forgiveness. The Aha! moment for me was that forgiveness is my gateway to Love; it is the gateway through which I lead others to find pure Love. Without forgiveness, we will never find that place in ourselves where we are Love, and we certainly will never find that place in others where they are pure Love.
This knowing didn't come printed on bulletin boards: it came from listening to what I know in my heart. This wisdom came because I showed up to listen and floated through lots of clutter to the crystal clarity of what I know.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Embracing the gifts
This morning I am officially unemployed for the first time in almost 30 years. I have to admit that my first reaction was to contact a friend to do something. Thankfully, she was not available today. Then I did what the very thing I should have done first: turn to my heart.
"What are your intentions?" is the question it had for me. Ah.
Suddenly, the floodgates opened to all those things that I've been saying I really want to do but don't have time. While cleaning my very cluttered desk might have been one of them, that is a "should," not a "really want." What is the difference? A "should" is something that comes from outside of me. I "should" clean my desk so if someone comes to visit, they won't think I'm a slob. (Probably wouldn't happen anyway because generally I am a neatnik except at my desk.) The cluttered desk only bothers me when I start looking for something that I can't find, and amazingly, most of the time I am able to find things.
A "really want" is something that I want in my heart. A "really want" is something I really yearn for. When I started writing this blog, it was because writing again was a "really want" for me. I felt like part of my soul was being ripped from me every day I didn't write. When I started writing this blog, I almost immediately experienced deep peace and satisfaction. I truly cannot explain how wonderful it has been for me.
What are my "really wants" right now? Three things came immediately:
"What are your intentions?" is the question it had for me. Ah.
Suddenly, the floodgates opened to all those things that I've been saying I really want to do but don't have time. While cleaning my very cluttered desk might have been one of them, that is a "should," not a "really want." What is the difference? A "should" is something that comes from outside of me. I "should" clean my desk so if someone comes to visit, they won't think I'm a slob. (Probably wouldn't happen anyway because generally I am a neatnik except at my desk.) The cluttered desk only bothers me when I start looking for something that I can't find, and amazingly, most of the time I am able to find things.
A "really want" is something that I want in my heart. A "really want" is something I really yearn for. When I started writing this blog, it was because writing again was a "really want" for me. I felt like part of my soul was being ripped from me every day I didn't write. When I started writing this blog, I almost immediately experienced deep peace and satisfaction. I truly cannot explain how wonderful it has been for me.
What are my "really wants" right now? Three things came immediately:
- Take better care of my body. Start exercising regularly again and get rid of sugar which really has negative effects on me. For over 25 years, I exercised almost every day, and I felt great. However, in the craziness of my life in recent years, I acted different priorities than what I know in my heart. I am going to start acting on what I know to be true for me: exercising regularly makes me feel great. And, the sugar...I give it up every year at Lent and really notice the difference how much better I feel, but my sweet tooth never takes long to lure me back. I know--truly know--that I am happier and more peaceful without it.
- Meditate every day--really meditate for a full 20 minutes. When my life was working better, exercise and meditation were rituals. They were the centerpieces around which I fit my life instead of vice versa.
- E-publish at least The Game Called Life. I started to do this a few months ago and the word document had totally gone missing from my computer. I can't find it anywhere--on my computer, on memory sticks, or on my back up hard drive. I am going to put it in my computer again (and back it up several places!) I sense that I really need to be up close and personal with this book again. Every time I read it, I am impacted by it. I think it is time to really have a relationship with it. If the government shutdown continues, I have a couple other books I've been wanting to get out there. Who knows? By the end of the furlough, I may have a whole library out there.
Monday, September 30, 2013
Living with ambiguity
I passed through the front door of my agency tonight after staying a bit late to finish up some details. I pulled my rolling briefcase, loaded with computer and files, as well as things I'd cleaned out of the office refrigerator. Will I or won't I? That was the question. I work for the federal government and as our fearless congressional leaders play with our lives, those of us whose jobs may dissolve at the stroke of midnight mostly just want to serve our mission. Will I be able to do my job or won't I? Will I have a job tomorrow or won't I? Will I get paid or won't I?
By the time I reached the Metro station a block away, I was in another place. I am living with ambiguity today and, if truth be known, always. Most of the time our minds convince us that we know what we are doing and what is going on around us. Truth be known: we can't possibly know. Ever.
Ambiguity is mystery. God is mystery. The more uncertain we are, the closer we are to God. As my walking meditation continued, I asked myself what I thought was a rhetorical question: if I am being my most whole, how do I navigate ambiguity? But instead of lingering without answer, the answer was there in an instant. "Be present."
Oh, that again. There is a pattern here.
I knew in an instant that the answer was right. Just float in the now and then check in with the heart. The answer is always right. We don't need to know what is going on around us; we just need to know that answer inside of us will tell us what we need to know next.
My day has been long, and I am tired. As I prepare to go to bed, I don't know whether I will go to work tomorrow or if I will go to work for a week or even several weeks. I don't know whether I will have money to buy groceries or not. I do know one thing: I don't need to know. I just need to be present...and listen.
By the time I reached the Metro station a block away, I was in another place. I am living with ambiguity today and, if truth be known, always. Most of the time our minds convince us that we know what we are doing and what is going on around us. Truth be known: we can't possibly know. Ever.
Ambiguity is mystery. God is mystery. The more uncertain we are, the closer we are to God. As my walking meditation continued, I asked myself what I thought was a rhetorical question: if I am being my most whole, how do I navigate ambiguity? But instead of lingering without answer, the answer was there in an instant. "Be present."
Oh, that again. There is a pattern here.
I knew in an instant that the answer was right. Just float in the now and then check in with the heart. The answer is always right. We don't need to know what is going on around us; we just need to know that answer inside of us will tell us what we need to know next.
My day has been long, and I am tired. As I prepare to go to bed, I don't know whether I will go to work tomorrow or if I will go to work for a week or even several weeks. I don't know whether I will have money to buy groceries or not. I do know one thing: I don't need to know. I just need to be present...and listen.
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Being
Yesterday I wrote about being present--being fully where we are when we are there. As I've continued to ponder "being present," I am brought back to one of my favorite topics: being. Leading from the Heart, my first book, was about our being: who each of us is, stripped away from the "having" and "doing."
Sometimes I have waves of "knowing" when something seems perfectly clear for the first time, and then I realize I had known that before. So it is with "being" today. I had this realization that "being" is looking inwardly to listen, feel, and hear who we are. Earlier I spoke (Beginning Again, 9/22/13) about the message, etched on the back of each of our hearts, that we brought into this life. When we are "being," we are attuned to that message. We may not be able to articulate what it is, but we "know" who we are and why we are here. It is the internal of "being present," except that this "being present" is being present to this moment on the inside.
Then, I realized that is what I wrote in Leading from the Heart. I've known it for at least 20 years. But I also knew it 15 years ago when I wrote Choice Point and 11 years ago when I was writing The Game Called Life. Why does it suddenly seem like such a spiritual breakthrough? Because I am writing again? When I am writing, what I know in my heart pours onto the page without passing through my brain. I think what is different this time is that I seemed to really "get it" without my keyboard. It was just there when I was making a salad for lunch, and it was there when I was watching something on TV, and it was still there when I awakened from my nap.
When I am present to what I know in my heart, I am perfectly attuned to the larger "I Am," a knowing of what we all know when we are in the ribbon of love that connects us, heart to heart, across time and space. I suspect that it is part of the universal message that we all know in our hearts, but maybe it is my message to bring to the world. Or maybe when I bring it to the world, others will awaken to that universal message.
There is a line in the Hindu sacred text The Upanishads about "the sleeping state that men call waking." I was struck speechless when I read it for the first time. We autopilot through life, moving about as if we are awake, but really we are in some kind of trance. It is only in the moments when we choose to "be present" to the world around us or "be" present to our hearts that we are really awake. We re-member our purpose, and we find the courage to be it. Now. Being...in the present.
Sometimes I have waves of "knowing" when something seems perfectly clear for the first time, and then I realize I had known that before. So it is with "being" today. I had this realization that "being" is looking inwardly to listen, feel, and hear who we are. Earlier I spoke (Beginning Again, 9/22/13) about the message, etched on the back of each of our hearts, that we brought into this life. When we are "being," we are attuned to that message. We may not be able to articulate what it is, but we "know" who we are and why we are here. It is the internal of "being present," except that this "being present" is being present to this moment on the inside.
Then, I realized that is what I wrote in Leading from the Heart. I've known it for at least 20 years. But I also knew it 15 years ago when I wrote Choice Point and 11 years ago when I was writing The Game Called Life. Why does it suddenly seem like such a spiritual breakthrough? Because I am writing again? When I am writing, what I know in my heart pours onto the page without passing through my brain. I think what is different this time is that I seemed to really "get it" without my keyboard. It was just there when I was making a salad for lunch, and it was there when I was watching something on TV, and it was still there when I awakened from my nap.
When I am present to what I know in my heart, I am perfectly attuned to the larger "I Am," a knowing of what we all know when we are in the ribbon of love that connects us, heart to heart, across time and space. I suspect that it is part of the universal message that we all know in our hearts, but maybe it is my message to bring to the world. Or maybe when I bring it to the world, others will awaken to that universal message.
There is a line in the Hindu sacred text The Upanishads about "the sleeping state that men call waking." I was struck speechless when I read it for the first time. We autopilot through life, moving about as if we are awake, but really we are in some kind of trance. It is only in the moments when we choose to "be present" to the world around us or "be" present to our hearts that we are really awake. We re-member our purpose, and we find the courage to be it. Now. Being...in the present.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Making a life
"We make a living by what we get, we make a life by what we give." Winston Churchill
Yesterday I wrote about gratitude, and although we usually think about being grateful for something we receive, I did introduce the concept of giving as an element of gratitude. Today, I want to focus on giving. We can give many things. Money and things are easy to give. Time, commitment, focus, consistency, and passion are harder. These require that we give of ourselves--our life energy.
I am guilty of saying, "I'd really like to do that, but I don't have time." What I am saying is that I don't make that thing a priority in my life. Yet when I look at the time that I fritter away every week in activities that are meaningless to me, it is clear that time is not the issue. What has been lacking are commitment, focus, and consistency.
For at least a half dozen years, I'd talked about starting a blog about heart-knowing. Only this week have I mustered the commitment, focus, consistency, and, yes, time to actually do so. When I pushed myself to my computer to write my blog last night, I was really tired, and it was late. Where would the energy come from to write? But, I was committed to writing daily. A funny thing happened: by the time I was done writing, I was energized, satisfied, and passionate about what I'd written. I thought I was giving to others, and my gift came back to me tenfold.
I am not sure why I was surprised. Each time I've written a book my time in the "flow" state with the words tumbling out of me like water from a waterfall has left me deeply satisfied and with a heart warmth that glows from inside of me.
Whatever our gifts may be, when we make using them a priority, we give to the world the very thing we came here to give...and we are making a life by doing so. That's what I know in my heart today.
Yesterday I wrote about gratitude, and although we usually think about being grateful for something we receive, I did introduce the concept of giving as an element of gratitude. Today, I want to focus on giving. We can give many things. Money and things are easy to give. Time, commitment, focus, consistency, and passion are harder. These require that we give of ourselves--our life energy.
I am guilty of saying, "I'd really like to do that, but I don't have time." What I am saying is that I don't make that thing a priority in my life. Yet when I look at the time that I fritter away every week in activities that are meaningless to me, it is clear that time is not the issue. What has been lacking are commitment, focus, and consistency.
For at least a half dozen years, I'd talked about starting a blog about heart-knowing. Only this week have I mustered the commitment, focus, consistency, and, yes, time to actually do so. When I pushed myself to my computer to write my blog last night, I was really tired, and it was late. Where would the energy come from to write? But, I was committed to writing daily. A funny thing happened: by the time I was done writing, I was energized, satisfied, and passionate about what I'd written. I thought I was giving to others, and my gift came back to me tenfold.
I am not sure why I was surprised. Each time I've written a book my time in the "flow" state with the words tumbling out of me like water from a waterfall has left me deeply satisfied and with a heart warmth that glows from inside of me.
Whatever our gifts may be, when we make using them a priority, we give to the world the very thing we came here to give...and we are making a life by doing so. That's what I know in my heart today.
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Beginning again...every day
I find that it has been over two years since my first/only blog post. When I tune in with renewed post-retreat zeal to write frequently, I discover nothing has changed, and everything has changed.
Let me start again by capturing what feels like new perspective, but in truth is what I've always known. First is the personal. On the back side of each of our hearts is a code that is unique in the world. Before we came into human form, we collaborated with the wisdom of the Universe--God, Higher Power, Higher Self, or as I prefer Love-- to determine what the world would need during this short snip of time during which we will inhabit Planet Earth. It is etched in our hearts.
At any moment, we can "tune in" to hear what is needed at exactly this moment. Not an hour from now, not a day from now, not a year from now...right now! So, timing is essential. If I listen to my heart in 2004, as I did when I heard that I should move to Washington, D.C., but I don't get my posterior in gear to do so until mid-2006, the guidance isn't timely. (I love Washington, but I sense it has been more of a struggle than it might have been if I'd come in 2004.)
The second is about the community living from the heart. Certain spiritual principles that transcend time and religion help us flow together. Since I've written two books about choosing love over fear at any moment in time, that is one of my personal favorites. Being of service to human kind is another. Forgiveness as the direct path to Love is another. These principles lead us to Love.
I imagine how this works is that there is a ribbon of love that flows from heart to heart to heart, connecting all of human kind. When we follow these principles, we electrify the connection between us and others. Sometimes it is one person to another person. Other times, events conspire to connect millions of us in love and compassion.
The challenge that we face is to live, moment to moment, from that sweet spot in which we are aligned with the universal principles and our unique heart destiny at the same time. From that place, we cannot fail. I call it "living a prayer in the real world"--the communion of the moment in which we check in, listen, and act...then start it all over again. That is "integrity"--a word derived from the same source as "integer"-- when we are at one within ourselves and between others.
While there is nothing in my September 1, 2011, blog post that I disagree with, the intervening years have distilled my focus. Although the heart doesn't usually give us headlines about why we are here or what our purpose is, I think that is what I am here: at this point in time my work is to help people live the prayer.
I will be the first to say that living a prayer isn't easy, but it is ultimately the most satisfying life we can live--the one that is uniquely our own. If you would like to share my journey and those of others on a similar path, I invite you to join me and share my blog with kindred spirits. I am committing to sharing something almost every day--every day that I can connect, and I look forward to your support on this journey.
Let me start again by capturing what feels like new perspective, but in truth is what I've always known. First is the personal. On the back side of each of our hearts is a code that is unique in the world. Before we came into human form, we collaborated with the wisdom of the Universe--God, Higher Power, Higher Self, or as I prefer Love-- to determine what the world would need during this short snip of time during which we will inhabit Planet Earth. It is etched in our hearts.
At any moment, we can "tune in" to hear what is needed at exactly this moment. Not an hour from now, not a day from now, not a year from now...right now! So, timing is essential. If I listen to my heart in 2004, as I did when I heard that I should move to Washington, D.C., but I don't get my posterior in gear to do so until mid-2006, the guidance isn't timely. (I love Washington, but I sense it has been more of a struggle than it might have been if I'd come in 2004.)
The second is about the community living from the heart. Certain spiritual principles that transcend time and religion help us flow together. Since I've written two books about choosing love over fear at any moment in time, that is one of my personal favorites. Being of service to human kind is another. Forgiveness as the direct path to Love is another. These principles lead us to Love.
I imagine how this works is that there is a ribbon of love that flows from heart to heart to heart, connecting all of human kind. When we follow these principles, we electrify the connection between us and others. Sometimes it is one person to another person. Other times, events conspire to connect millions of us in love and compassion.
The challenge that we face is to live, moment to moment, from that sweet spot in which we are aligned with the universal principles and our unique heart destiny at the same time. From that place, we cannot fail. I call it "living a prayer in the real world"--the communion of the moment in which we check in, listen, and act...then start it all over again. That is "integrity"--a word derived from the same source as "integer"-- when we are at one within ourselves and between others.
While there is nothing in my September 1, 2011, blog post that I disagree with, the intervening years have distilled my focus. Although the heart doesn't usually give us headlines about why we are here or what our purpose is, I think that is what I am here: at this point in time my work is to help people live the prayer.
I will be the first to say that living a prayer isn't easy, but it is ultimately the most satisfying life we can live--the one that is uniquely our own. If you would like to share my journey and those of others on a similar path, I invite you to join me and share my blog with kindred spirits. I am committing to sharing something almost every day--every day that I can connect, and I look forward to your support on this journey.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)