Earlier this week I heard a commentary on time travel. In it the commentator remarked that most time travelers seek to go back in time; going backward, she said, creates a host of challenges that nothing can be done to change history. One of my favorite rom-com films is Kate and Leopold, and in that film Kate is charged with time traveling to enable history. If she doesn't go back and marry Leopold, then their children and grandchildren won't exist and can't accomplish the things that history tells us that they have accomplished.
Going forward in time could be easier since we don't have to worry about upsetting history, but what we are stepping into is of necessity much more mysterious and possibly problematic. I will write more about forward time travel tomorrow.
This weekend several media accounts have marked the 45th anniversary of the Lunar Landing of Apollo 11. The stories have made me a bit nostalgic and wishing just a bit that I could time travel. I don't want to be overly idyllic about the late 60s and early 70s because there was a lot of turmoil, but there was also a sense of hope in this country that has steadily dwindled since that time.
As I recall my big eyes as a young person, glued to the television joining the rest of the country (maybe the world) in watching the landing on the moon, I believe I thought there was nothing we couldn't accomplish. The Greatest Generation, who had won World War II, was still relatively young, and they'd come home to change the world on the home front as they had in Europe and Asia.
We had a civil rights law that meant, as a young woman, I could pursue careers that had only been open to women previously when the men were at war. President Nixon had declared war on cancer, and little could we know that what then was a certain death sentence would by now, in many cases, become a chronic or curable condition. The end of the 1967 war in the Middle East left us hopeful for peace in the region.
So, if I chose to travel backward in time, it would be to this day 45 years ago. I wouldn't want to change anything but to just experience that sense of hopefulness again. To remember on a cellular level what it felt like to think there wasn't anything either I or we collectively couldn't accomplish if we put our heads, hearts, and intention to it.
Sunday, July 20, 2014
Saturday, July 12, 2014
Clouds
When Washington turns steamy, as it has this week, my workout turns to swimming laps, instead of walking, biking, or running. I put in my 35 minutes today, and then, as I often do, fell onto a lounge chair to dry off and read a bit before heading indoors again.
As usual, the air that had been stifling 40 minutes earlier was quite pleasant when I am dripping wet. When I finished my magazine, I lay back and looked upward. What I saw nearly took my breath away with its beauty: cobalt skies generously clouded with puffy white and light gray clouds. My first thought was: is the sky this beautiful all the time, and I've been so nose-down that I've forgetten to look up?
As I lay there, the movement of the clouds was both mesmerizing and tranquilizing. A thicker layer of lower clouds parted occasionally to reveal whispier, higher ones. I have no idea what the distance between them was--maybe 50 feet, maybe 500, maybe more. They held their own mystery.
The heavier, lower ones appeared to be moving north while the whispier, higher ones were moving southward. I don't think that is possible, but that is how it looked. As I contemplated their mysteries, I became consciously aware that I was totally relaxed. What a rich feeling--relaxed and conscious of it.
My eyes drifted shut, and I relished the relaxation. When I opened my eyes again, the heavier clouds had disappeared, leaving a sea of cobalt, simply decorated by what appeared to be 1,000 dandelions gone to seed and sent scattering by a giant puff from a mysterious source. I've been here for awhile now, alternating between watching and closing my eyes. Each time I open them, a new skyscape awaits.
I like to think I am pretty good about observing beauty in the natural world about me, but this afternoon I've decided that I don't look up nearly enough.
Sometimes in the midst of the crazy pace of my daily work world, I sneak off for 10 minutes to the patio in the roof of our office building: it always relaxes me, but I think I've almost never looked up at the clouds. Today I believe they might be nature's antidote to the chaotic world in which I find myself. I feel a bit wicked to have discovered such a decadent secret, which I can use at my choosing to mellow out. And, I will, grateful once again for all the gifts that are ours for the choosing.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
As usual, the air that had been stifling 40 minutes earlier was quite pleasant when I am dripping wet. When I finished my magazine, I lay back and looked upward. What I saw nearly took my breath away with its beauty: cobalt skies generously clouded with puffy white and light gray clouds. My first thought was: is the sky this beautiful all the time, and I've been so nose-down that I've forgetten to look up?
As I lay there, the movement of the clouds was both mesmerizing and tranquilizing. A thicker layer of lower clouds parted occasionally to reveal whispier, higher ones. I have no idea what the distance between them was--maybe 50 feet, maybe 500, maybe more. They held their own mystery.
The heavier, lower ones appeared to be moving north while the whispier, higher ones were moving southward. I don't think that is possible, but that is how it looked. As I contemplated their mysteries, I became consciously aware that I was totally relaxed. What a rich feeling--relaxed and conscious of it.
My eyes drifted shut, and I relished the relaxation. When I opened my eyes again, the heavier clouds had disappeared, leaving a sea of cobalt, simply decorated by what appeared to be 1,000 dandelions gone to seed and sent scattering by a giant puff from a mysterious source. I've been here for awhile now, alternating between watching and closing my eyes. Each time I open them, a new skyscape awaits.
I like to think I am pretty good about observing beauty in the natural world about me, but this afternoon I've decided that I don't look up nearly enough.
Sometimes in the midst of the crazy pace of my daily work world, I sneak off for 10 minutes to the patio in the roof of our office building: it always relaxes me, but I think I've almost never looked up at the clouds. Today I believe they might be nature's antidote to the chaotic world in which I find myself. I feel a bit wicked to have discovered such a decadent secret, which I can use at my choosing to mellow out. And, I will, grateful once again for all the gifts that are ours for the choosing.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Monday, July 7, 2014
My Millennial Friends
I have three Millennials that I have mentored over the years. I consider all of them friends now. I love the general optimism and enthusiasm for new things that they reflect. I try to lunch or coffee with each if them at least 2 or 3 times a year. Today I lunched with one. The other two are on my calendar for the next two weeks. After today, I am almost giddy with anticipation.
As always, today's lunch was a two-way exchange. Although she has had limited exposure, this young friend enjoys trying different foods, and she always asks me to pick something she's never tried. Since I enjoy different cuisines, I delight in the task. We ate Belgian today at Washington's Belga Cafe. I cannot even begin to share what a treat it was to watch her eyes light up with each new flavor treat, and there were some good ones.
I always like to think that I enjoy good food, but when I watched her, I realized how much I take for granted. Thanks to her example, I will focus my intention on paying attention to my food in the future.
Her life has been busy since we were last together. Really busy. I think I am too busy, but since she was a child, this young woman has cared for a disabled mother, who recently died. As her water broke, and she was in child labor, her mother had an episode which required 911. There she stood timing contractions while assuring that EMTs had her mother in the ambulance before she headed to the hospital herself. She's helping a friend who has been having serious health issues, parenting a two-year old, and applying for readmission to graduate school, which had been back-burnered due to aforementioned challenges. I've always respected her ability to deal with personal challenges in her life; now even more than ever.
Really! And I think I am busy? Note to self: whatever I am doing, I could do at least three times as much, especially when what I do is motivated by love.
Next week's lunch promises a full report on MOOC participation. (Massive Open Online Courses). Both that lunch and the one the following week will teach me at least one thing I haven't known how to do with my technology.
So what is the message here? There are several. To start with, every GenXer or Boomer should have at least one Millennial friend. I don't think kids count because I believe parents interact differently with their children than they do as friends.
Second is about the value if cross-generational friendships. Again, I don't think family members--grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles--count. As I reflect, the difference is probably about power and respect, which are different with family members than friends. There may also be something about assumptions. Often times we are concerned with making sure family members are making good decisions to take care of themselves. We tend to respect the judgment of friends or think it isn't our business. I think everyone should have at least one friend in a generation ahead and at least one in a generation behind.
Next is certainly about the opportunity to learn from everyone. Whatever I've shared in mentoring with these three has been returned many times over...and I was never counting.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhonehe
As always, today's lunch was a two-way exchange. Although she has had limited exposure, this young friend enjoys trying different foods, and she always asks me to pick something she's never tried. Since I enjoy different cuisines, I delight in the task. We ate Belgian today at Washington's Belga Cafe. I cannot even begin to share what a treat it was to watch her eyes light up with each new flavor treat, and there were some good ones.
I always like to think that I enjoy good food, but when I watched her, I realized how much I take for granted. Thanks to her example, I will focus my intention on paying attention to my food in the future.
Her life has been busy since we were last together. Really busy. I think I am too busy, but since she was a child, this young woman has cared for a disabled mother, who recently died. As her water broke, and she was in child labor, her mother had an episode which required 911. There she stood timing contractions while assuring that EMTs had her mother in the ambulance before she headed to the hospital herself. She's helping a friend who has been having serious health issues, parenting a two-year old, and applying for readmission to graduate school, which had been back-burnered due to aforementioned challenges. I've always respected her ability to deal with personal challenges in her life; now even more than ever.
Really! And I think I am busy? Note to self: whatever I am doing, I could do at least three times as much, especially when what I do is motivated by love.
Next week's lunch promises a full report on MOOC participation. (Massive Open Online Courses). Both that lunch and the one the following week will teach me at least one thing I haven't known how to do with my technology.
So what is the message here? There are several. To start with, every GenXer or Boomer should have at least one Millennial friend. I don't think kids count because I believe parents interact differently with their children than they do as friends.
Second is about the value if cross-generational friendships. Again, I don't think family members--grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles--count. As I reflect, the difference is probably about power and respect, which are different with family members than friends. There may also be something about assumptions. Often times we are concerned with making sure family members are making good decisions to take care of themselves. We tend to respect the judgment of friends or think it isn't our business. I think everyone should have at least one friend in a generation ahead and at least one in a generation behind.
Next is certainly about the opportunity to learn from everyone. Whatever I've shared in mentoring with these three has been returned many times over...and I was never counting.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhonehe
Sunday, July 6, 2014
Getting to Know My Shadow
This morning's speaker at church was a young woman, who is a seminarian. I believe she has delivered the homily once before, but she is clearly new to the pulpit. I always find interesting the sources of inspiration that the seminarians call upon. She chose Thurber and Jung, two of my favorite sources as well.
As she spoke of Jung and his description of our need to get to know our Shadows, I admit my mind drifted. My mind floated off to yesterday's post about being back in my groove, my post on Emotional Intelligence and Intention (4/9,) and to conversations about Jung and the Shadow over the past 25 years. Many years ago a speaker on the topic described that we all have all possibilities within us. Whatever is the opposite of how we usually are is our Shadow. He continued, "Even Mother Teresa had an axe-murderer within her, and," he continued, "even the axe-murderer has a Mother Teresa within." That was a startling concept, but if we do all have all possibilities, it must be true.
When I've written about the self-awareness and self-management aspects of emotional intelligence, it has usually been from the perspective of what holds us back or what are we afraid of, but if we are honest with ourselves, Jung would say we do have darker places within us. I blame my Irish heritage for an occasional outburst. (I get "my Irish up.") Thankfully, probably because of self-awareness and self-management over the years, those outbursts have become more and more rare, shorter in duration, and blow over very quickly. I still don't like it when it happens, but I seem not to be stop it completely.
The passage of scripture upon which the seminarian's remarks were based was from Romans. Paul was wrestling with his own Shadow, wondering why he did things that he knew were "evil" and neglected doing things that were "good." (Romans 7:18-19)
I have written before about being introverted and having a job that requires me to extravert 90 percent of my days. When the evening and weekends come, in the words of the Greta Garbo in film classic Grand Hotel "I want to be alone."* Yet as I contemplated my Shadow this morning, I remembered times when I had more introverted work when I had done more volunteer work in my community. I've even been considering volunteering for something I would love to do but it happens on Friday evenings--the absolute low energy point for any introvert who extraverts at work. Has my introversion become my Shadow, or am I just listening to my inner knowing? Where do we draw the line?
As much of an advocate as I am for listening to our hearts and going/doing what they guide us, today I am keenly aware of the consequences of some of those decisions. The consequences are like the Shadows for our hearts. Until we look at them, they pop up unexpectedly just like my little outbursts.
I've lived several different places around the country and have friends and "adopted families" from Coast to Coast, but the truth is that most of those relationships are not the deep and abiding kind that result from having spent a lifetime in the same place and decades building relationships. Mostly on holidays and special days, I am alone, just as I was on the most recent one. Where did following my heart and my desire to "be alone" become my lonely Shadow?
Just a few days ago I was having a conversation with a relatively new friend about my life choices and their consequences. I said, and I meant, "There is nothing that I would have wanted to miss. Even when the consequences were not the most desirable, often those are the times I have grown the most."
I said when I started the blog that it was about the questions I wrestle with and the answers I am seeking. I'd love to say I have an answer for my spiritual dilemma, but I don't. Yet one thing about which I am certain, if we don't consciously and intentionally examine our Shadows, they will drive us. At least most of my decisions to follow my heart have been conscious ones, often made with great deliberation.
*From "Grand Hotel" http://www.tcm.com/mediaroom/video/582338/Grand-Hotel-Movie-Clip-I-Want-To-Be-Alone-.html
As she spoke of Jung and his description of our need to get to know our Shadows, I admit my mind drifted. My mind floated off to yesterday's post about being back in my groove, my post on Emotional Intelligence and Intention (4/9,) and to conversations about Jung and the Shadow over the past 25 years. Many years ago a speaker on the topic described that we all have all possibilities within us. Whatever is the opposite of how we usually are is our Shadow. He continued, "Even Mother Teresa had an axe-murderer within her, and," he continued, "even the axe-murderer has a Mother Teresa within." That was a startling concept, but if we do all have all possibilities, it must be true.
When I've written about the self-awareness and self-management aspects of emotional intelligence, it has usually been from the perspective of what holds us back or what are we afraid of, but if we are honest with ourselves, Jung would say we do have darker places within us. I blame my Irish heritage for an occasional outburst. (I get "my Irish up.") Thankfully, probably because of self-awareness and self-management over the years, those outbursts have become more and more rare, shorter in duration, and blow over very quickly. I still don't like it when it happens, but I seem not to be stop it completely.
The passage of scripture upon which the seminarian's remarks were based was from Romans. Paul was wrestling with his own Shadow, wondering why he did things that he knew were "evil" and neglected doing things that were "good." (Romans 7:18-19)
I have written before about being introverted and having a job that requires me to extravert 90 percent of my days. When the evening and weekends come, in the words of the Greta Garbo in film classic Grand Hotel "I want to be alone."* Yet as I contemplated my Shadow this morning, I remembered times when I had more introverted work when I had done more volunteer work in my community. I've even been considering volunteering for something I would love to do but it happens on Friday evenings--the absolute low energy point for any introvert who extraverts at work. Has my introversion become my Shadow, or am I just listening to my inner knowing? Where do we draw the line?
As much of an advocate as I am for listening to our hearts and going/doing what they guide us, today I am keenly aware of the consequences of some of those decisions. The consequences are like the Shadows for our hearts. Until we look at them, they pop up unexpectedly just like my little outbursts.
I've lived several different places around the country and have friends and "adopted families" from Coast to Coast, but the truth is that most of those relationships are not the deep and abiding kind that result from having spent a lifetime in the same place and decades building relationships. Mostly on holidays and special days, I am alone, just as I was on the most recent one. Where did following my heart and my desire to "be alone" become my lonely Shadow?
Just a few days ago I was having a conversation with a relatively new friend about my life choices and their consequences. I said, and I meant, "There is nothing that I would have wanted to miss. Even when the consequences were not the most desirable, often those are the times I have grown the most."
I said when I started the blog that it was about the questions I wrestle with and the answers I am seeking. I'd love to say I have an answer for my spiritual dilemma, but I don't. Yet one thing about which I am certain, if we don't consciously and intentionally examine our Shadows, they will drive us. At least most of my decisions to follow my heart have been conscious ones, often made with great deliberation.
*From "Grand Hotel" http://www.tcm.com/mediaroom/video/582338/Grand-Hotel-Movie-Clip-I-Want-To-Be-Alone-.html
Saturday, July 5, 2014
Back in the Groove Again
I just finished my first tango class is almost 10 months. Wow! Was that ever tedious for a bit? I started with an intermediate class. Even though I'd been doing tango weekly for two years before, it felt like the hard drive between my ears had been totally erased as I danced with the first couple partners.
Then, magically, when it was my turn to dance with the instructor, it all came back almost in an instant. Now anyone who has danced with a professional knows that he/she can make even a rank beginner feel competent. But this was more than that: I was getting my groove back. Once I felt how my body was supposed to feel, I couldn't imagine how I hadn't been able to remember even minutes before. I had dusted off my muscle memory, and suddenly everything felt right.
Earlier this week I went back to the gym for the first time in several months. Our work gym had been being remodeled, and although I did some easy weights and floor exercises at home, mostly I'd been depending in my normal life aerobic activity to keep in shape. Much like the tango class, getting into the routine was stilted at first, but soon it began to flow.
I've also recently gotten back to a more regular meditation routine. I'm not sure when that began to slide, but it was like coming home to spend a few minutes in stillness each day before work.
Those of you who are regular readers have noticed that after slipping during some very long work hours during the spring, I've been getting the writing habit back. Not unlike the tango class and the gym, the first post or two felt laborious and forced, but by yesterday it was flowing. For me, the biggest difference has been my attention to the little things in life that have suggested themselves to me as subjects for a post when my intention to get back to writing has been clear. For several months, I'd been so nose down that I'd just sleepwalked through those inspirations. Writing is both centering and energizing to me. I am glad it is back, or I am back, or both.
The tango, the gym, the meditation, and the writing are all important parts of keeping me in balance, and what each of these resets has taught me is that, when I find my groove, body, mind, and spirit collaborate to shout to me: "This us where you should be."
As I've gotten these aspects of my life in balance, I've also started sleeping better, remembering my dreams, and this morning awakening with a creative inspiration that is quite exciting. It is almost as if our personal spiritual programs knows when we are where we should be and cheers us on. How did I lose touch with that core of my being? I do not know, but I am glad I am back in the groove again.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Then, magically, when it was my turn to dance with the instructor, it all came back almost in an instant. Now anyone who has danced with a professional knows that he/she can make even a rank beginner feel competent. But this was more than that: I was getting my groove back. Once I felt how my body was supposed to feel, I couldn't imagine how I hadn't been able to remember even minutes before. I had dusted off my muscle memory, and suddenly everything felt right.
Earlier this week I went back to the gym for the first time in several months. Our work gym had been being remodeled, and although I did some easy weights and floor exercises at home, mostly I'd been depending in my normal life aerobic activity to keep in shape. Much like the tango class, getting into the routine was stilted at first, but soon it began to flow.
I've also recently gotten back to a more regular meditation routine. I'm not sure when that began to slide, but it was like coming home to spend a few minutes in stillness each day before work.
Those of you who are regular readers have noticed that after slipping during some very long work hours during the spring, I've been getting the writing habit back. Not unlike the tango class and the gym, the first post or two felt laborious and forced, but by yesterday it was flowing. For me, the biggest difference has been my attention to the little things in life that have suggested themselves to me as subjects for a post when my intention to get back to writing has been clear. For several months, I'd been so nose down that I'd just sleepwalked through those inspirations. Writing is both centering and energizing to me. I am glad it is back, or I am back, or both.
The tango, the gym, the meditation, and the writing are all important parts of keeping me in balance, and what each of these resets has taught me is that, when I find my groove, body, mind, and spirit collaborate to shout to me: "This us where you should be."
As I've gotten these aspects of my life in balance, I've also started sleeping better, remembering my dreams, and this morning awakening with a creative inspiration that is quite exciting. It is almost as if our personal spiritual programs knows when we are where we should be and cheers us on. How did I lose touch with that core of my being? I do not know, but I am glad I am back in the groove again.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Friday, July 4, 2014
Freedom
It is the Fourth of July. After torrential downpours and strong winds, Washington is welcoming a splendid day. Sunshine has broken through and brought non-humid temperatures in the 70s with it. (Thank you, Hurricane Arthur!)
I love being in Washington on the Fourth of July. When we aren't having a tropical storm, people begin to whoop it up a full day in advance and often wear the red-white-and-blue for several days in advance. There's a true sense of celebration. It really is difficult for me not to spend some time in reflection about the nature of freedom.
Of course, what we really are celebrating today is a system of government. Some would even say we are celebrating a system of economics, but I am not sure that is what our Founding Fathers had in mind. But I look to personal freedom on this day. While I will quickly admit that we may have more options in one system of government than another, personal freedom is something any of us can have without regard to what structures others have assigned to us.
Since I first read Viktor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning over a quarter century ago, I have believed the treatise to be the ultimate work on personal freedom. For any who may not be familiar with the transformative little book, Frankl spent a significant period of time in a Nazi concentration camp during World War II. Yet, even in that environment, he found personal freedom.
He says, "...there were always choices to make. Every day, every hour, offered the opportunity to make a decision which determined whether you would or would not submit to those powers which threatened to rob you of your very self, your inner freedom....Even though conditions...may suggest that the inmates were bound to react in certain ways, in the final analysis it becomes clear that the sort of person the prisoner became was the result of an inner decision, and not the result of camp influences alone."
Frankl continues, "...any man can, even under such circumstances, decide what shall become of him--mentally and spiritually. He may retain his human dignity even in a concentration camp."
Even as I read those words again on the yellowed pages of my first copy, they move me.
I am an adventuresome traveler. People have often said after hearing tales of my adventures, "I couldn't do that." Well, of course, they could. They have just chosen to believe they cannot.
I love to dance but have only had a regular partner for maybe a year of the almost 20 years I have danced. I just go and take my chances that there will be people with whom I can dance. Sometimes, I am bored and leave early, but certainly in excess of 90 percent of the time, I dance...a lot. A number of friends have said they'd like to dance but don't have a partner. When I tell them my story, they say they couldn't go to a dance alone. Of course, they could. They are choosing to stay at home, and I choose to go and take my chances.
Over the years, I have moved from the Midwest to the West Coast without a job because I wanted to. Later I moved the other direction to the East Cost without a job because I knew that I was fundamentally an East Coast person...and because I hated the weather in the Pacific Northwest. Eight years ago last month I pulled up roots in North Carolina and moved to Washington, again without a job, because I was drawn to the city and the desire to be a public servant. Many have told me they couldn't have done what I did. Of course, they could. I don't have any magic fairy dust that makes outcomes materialize perfectly. Maybe I just have a higher tolerance for being very uncomfortable for months during the transition, but what I am willing to tolerate is also a choice.
Last week at work someone asked if I was going to apply for a program available to potential leaders of our Agency. The program requires a "continued service agreement," which means if I enter the program I have to promise to work for the Agency for several more years. I did sign such an agreement a few years ago, and I described it as "legal slavery." Now as I look back at my attitude at that time, or even just this last week in my conversation about the new program, I know that my words were not true. Those agreements are only "legal slavery" because I allow them to be. I need to do a reset.
What we believe we can or cannot do is only determined by the extent of personal freedom we choose mentally and spiritually.
My life clearly works better when I have chosen to be free of mentally confining limitations. On this day of freedom, I am choosing to reassess where I have chosen freedom and where I have spurned it. Who knows I really might jump out of an airplane before summer is over, and I may even find myself back in graduate school next year. Or maybe not. I don't have to do something just because I can, but allowing myself to weigh all the options before deciding what I really want is, well, freeing.
Happy Independence Day!
I love being in Washington on the Fourth of July. When we aren't having a tropical storm, people begin to whoop it up a full day in advance and often wear the red-white-and-blue for several days in advance. There's a true sense of celebration. It really is difficult for me not to spend some time in reflection about the nature of freedom.
Of course, what we really are celebrating today is a system of government. Some would even say we are celebrating a system of economics, but I am not sure that is what our Founding Fathers had in mind. But I look to personal freedom on this day. While I will quickly admit that we may have more options in one system of government than another, personal freedom is something any of us can have without regard to what structures others have assigned to us.
Since I first read Viktor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning over a quarter century ago, I have believed the treatise to be the ultimate work on personal freedom. For any who may not be familiar with the transformative little book, Frankl spent a significant period of time in a Nazi concentration camp during World War II. Yet, even in that environment, he found personal freedom.
He says, "...there were always choices to make. Every day, every hour, offered the opportunity to make a decision which determined whether you would or would not submit to those powers which threatened to rob you of your very self, your inner freedom....Even though conditions...may suggest that the inmates were bound to react in certain ways, in the final analysis it becomes clear that the sort of person the prisoner became was the result of an inner decision, and not the result of camp influences alone."
Frankl continues, "...any man can, even under such circumstances, decide what shall become of him--mentally and spiritually. He may retain his human dignity even in a concentration camp."
Even as I read those words again on the yellowed pages of my first copy, they move me.
I am an adventuresome traveler. People have often said after hearing tales of my adventures, "I couldn't do that." Well, of course, they could. They have just chosen to believe they cannot.
I love to dance but have only had a regular partner for maybe a year of the almost 20 years I have danced. I just go and take my chances that there will be people with whom I can dance. Sometimes, I am bored and leave early, but certainly in excess of 90 percent of the time, I dance...a lot. A number of friends have said they'd like to dance but don't have a partner. When I tell them my story, they say they couldn't go to a dance alone. Of course, they could. They are choosing to stay at home, and I choose to go and take my chances.
Over the years, I have moved from the Midwest to the West Coast without a job because I wanted to. Later I moved the other direction to the East Cost without a job because I knew that I was fundamentally an East Coast person...and because I hated the weather in the Pacific Northwest. Eight years ago last month I pulled up roots in North Carolina and moved to Washington, again without a job, because I was drawn to the city and the desire to be a public servant. Many have told me they couldn't have done what I did. Of course, they could. I don't have any magic fairy dust that makes outcomes materialize perfectly. Maybe I just have a higher tolerance for being very uncomfortable for months during the transition, but what I am willing to tolerate is also a choice.
Last week at work someone asked if I was going to apply for a program available to potential leaders of our Agency. The program requires a "continued service agreement," which means if I enter the program I have to promise to work for the Agency for several more years. I did sign such an agreement a few years ago, and I described it as "legal slavery." Now as I look back at my attitude at that time, or even just this last week in my conversation about the new program, I know that my words were not true. Those agreements are only "legal slavery" because I allow them to be. I need to do a reset.
What we believe we can or cannot do is only determined by the extent of personal freedom we choose mentally and spiritually.
My life clearly works better when I have chosen to be free of mentally confining limitations. On this day of freedom, I am choosing to reassess where I have chosen freedom and where I have spurned it. Who knows I really might jump out of an airplane before summer is over, and I may even find myself back in graduate school next year. Or maybe not. I don't have to do something just because I can, but allowing myself to weigh all the options before deciding what I really want is, well, freeing.
Happy Independence Day!
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
Falling in Love...
I went to the movies this evening with friends, and at the end of the movie, we had a discussion about what the ending really meant. Did the female star leave her former boyfriend? Did he leave her? I had another thought. I didn't think that it was about him and her. I thought the star had found herself, and instead of walking away from him, she was really following her own heart. She wasn't falling out of love with anyone. She was falling in love...with her own heart.
The traditional model of male-female relationships is one of either going toward each other or going away from each other. Far more rare, and harder, is it to listen to those quiet rumblings in our hearts and move toward them. That may take the woman toward her lover or away, but the compass is her heart, not the man.
I know. I did that 20 years ago. I will be the first to say that following one's heart is not any faster route to happily ever after than when the woman marries the handsome prince. There are no guarantees of happiness or prosperity. And, I have been sad...often about leaving my prince when I followed my heart. How much sadder it would have been though, if I had not listened to those rumblings. Almost every day has been an adventure: some adventures were fun and exhilarating; others not so much.
What I have lived and learned in that 20 years has made me the woman I am: the sum total of those experiences. I am glad that I fell in love with my heart and that I had the courage to follow where it has led me. Some of those less than wonderful adventures have had the tendency to make me less brave over the years, yet I still listen and many of the times I follow. And, almost every time I haven't followed it, later I was certain that I missed the boat when I didn't.
The traditional model of male-female relationships is one of either going toward each other or going away from each other. Far more rare, and harder, is it to listen to those quiet rumblings in our hearts and move toward them. That may take the woman toward her lover or away, but the compass is her heart, not the man.
I know. I did that 20 years ago. I will be the first to say that following one's heart is not any faster route to happily ever after than when the woman marries the handsome prince. There are no guarantees of happiness or prosperity. And, I have been sad...often about leaving my prince when I followed my heart. How much sadder it would have been though, if I had not listened to those rumblings. Almost every day has been an adventure: some adventures were fun and exhilarating; others not so much.
What I have lived and learned in that 20 years has made me the woman I am: the sum total of those experiences. I am glad that I fell in love with my heart and that I had the courage to follow where it has led me. Some of those less than wonderful adventures have had the tendency to make me less brave over the years, yet I still listen and many of the times I follow. And, almost every time I haven't followed it, later I was certain that I missed the boat when I didn't.
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