Oct 27, 2010

new beginning

I've been carrying this poem by John O'Donohue with me for the past few weeks. I thought that you might find inspiration or comfort in these words as well.


For a New Beginning

In out of the way places of the heart.
Where your thoughts never think to wander,
This beginning has been quietly forming
Waiting until you were ready to emerge.

For a long time it has watched your desire,
Feeling the emptiness growing inside you,
Noticing how you willed yourself on,
Still unable to leave what you had outgrown.

It watched you play with the seduction of safety
And the gray promises that sameness whispered,
Heard the waves of turmoil rise and relent
Wondered would you always live like this.

Then the delight, when your courage kindled,
And out you stepped onto new ground.
Your eyes young again with energy and dream,
A path of plenitude opening before you.

Through your destination is not yet clear
You can trust the promise of this opening;
Unfurl yourself into the grace of beginning
That is at one with your life's desire.

Awaken your spirit to adventure;
Hold nothing back, learn to find ease in risk;
Soon you will be home in a new rhythm,
For your soul senses the world that awaits you.


From 'To Bless the Space Between Us'
by John O'Donohue

Oct 21, 2010

courage and vulnerability

Here I am, my last day in lovely Nova Scotia. Thought I'd try to get this post off before I get on the plane.

I've met some courageous folks this week, each on their own journey to a life that pleases and fulfills them. Each person I met is in the process of living a major transition in their life: changes that include letting go of a relationship, leaving home, joining a support program, or selling a business*.

Whatever transition we're in, it can often include some lost, lonely and scary moments for most of us - even when they are changes we choose!  The appropriate support can make all the difference in these moments. What I seem to be noticing this week is that support can be plentiful and right in arms reach but unless we're willing to accept it, we aren't likely to perceive it let alone reap the full range of benefits offered.  In order to seek, see and receive that support it seems to me that we need to allow ourselves to be both vulnerable and courageous. 

What helps us dance that delicate line between the two? How do we trust enough - both ourselves and the support offered - to let go and let come? For many of the folks I met this week they told me that what helped them was feeling listened to, non-judged, and accepted. I also heard that they themselves were ready for the change...there was personal desire and commitment.

But the crucial thing that seemed to matter the most for many was hearing someone they trusted say that they believed in them.

Being believed in when you've lost, buried or distorted your belief in yourself is a powerful thing. I've experienced that. What I've learned this week is that we could only hear that message (even if cautiously) if it somehow resonated with our wish, our longing, our own belief in ourselves: Yes, I am capable, worth it, lovable ... (an artist!). The other person is simply shining a light, a mirror, an amplifier on something that already exists. Their belief in us comes in through our vulnerability, perhaps a small crack we've allowed in our armour, our defenses. It lets in that bit of light, warmth, and hope that can help us take the next step.

Look around...who or what support could you allow in today? Give yourself the gift of being vulnerable, of courageously accepting the support offered that you know - you feel in your body - is the truth. It is possible to be who you want to be and live the life you want to live.


* By the by, if the life you want is possibly owning a B & B in Nova Scotia, check out: http://www.bbcanada.com/bb_forsale/farmhouseinn

Oct 14, 2010

beauty in the fog

The sun is slowly heating it's way through the fog this morning. There is beauty in both the hazy veil and the sunlight streaming through it. 

As I decide to live my life really and truly as I dream...it starts to unfold in that direction almost effortlessly.  When I notice what I eat and how I move my body, I tend to make choices that nourish me. When I acknowledge that creativity for me at this point is really about exploring my artist self, support comes my way. As I state unequivocally that I want to attract clients that align with my beliefs and values, work that excites me, that I feel I can contribute to...it begins to come in.

Earlier this week I had a fascinating chat with an artist friend. Not only did I get an invitation to play in her studio ,we also engaged in a dialogue about our different perceptions about the making of art and being human. I heard myself articulate the links I see between art and organizational and personal change. This is the kind of exchange I want more of; more conversations that reveal my thoughts ... and create new ones. 

I also began work with a new client this week and our initial chat left me feeling energized. I can feel my smile resonate through my whole body. It's invigorating to drop down quickly into the juice of this work...listening and searching in the mist for what their needs are. There seems to a level of awareness around what it means to be human in the chaos of an organizational (or personal) change...and a common language for us to talk about it. At the same time there is a trust building that welcomes our different perspectives and experiences and this too will support the journey ahead.

I'm starting to appreciate the foggy aspects of my life - the unknown, the unseen - just as much as I do the rays of sunlight.

Oct 6, 2010

lessons from my cat

I was telling a friend the other day about my cat Rafiki and his ability to heal.

One time he got hit by a car. The driver came to tell me so I knew. It took a few hours before I could find him...hiding under the porch next door. When I made eye contact and called him he came out. I could detect no external injuries. He walked slowly across the grass to our home and then leaped onto the porch. I could see that he realized too late that that hadn't been a good idea.

Inside he basically laid down under a chair and stayed there for three days. I brought food and water to him and left him alone. On the third day he got up, ate, accepted a cuddle and headed outside again as if nothing was wrong. He'd healed.

Lessons I take from this story:
  • when you get hurt you might need to hide a way for a bit
  • when you're ready, accept the invitation from trusted others for company and comfort
  • be cautious with what is usually normal activity for you  ie: don't leap when you're hurting
  • stay still, sleep lots, let time help you heal
  • when it's over, it's over - get back to your life... hopefully keeping any lessons learned well in mind
What do you think; might Rafiki's strategy apply to you and me too? 

Breathe big,

Linda