roller coasters and rock walls

My beautiful rock wall, built by a friend, draped in flox given as gifts, held together by weeds and wild flowers...a metaphor for life ?

 

Despite beautiful weather day after day, despite the luscious rain last night that gave the gardens a deep drink,  despite fun community projects, despite creative work - despite all this - my world continues to go up and down. In a good place one minute, not so much the next.

Such is perhaps how it is. Or a reality of being in my fifties. Or perhaps a piece of the grieving journey. Whatever the case, the trick appears to be to find a way to accept and roll with those waves, one moment at a time.  And to notice what seems to help.

For me there are at least three things that support me getting to a more balanced place:

• writing (the private kind, not this public blogging!), letting my words, emotions, questions flow out unbridled     

• moving my body in some way - be that yoga, walking, swimming, cycling, dancing...just move! 

• telling someone what's happening; being heard helps even if there are no specific answers

This last one appears to be the hardest for me to act on.  Not really sure why.  I know that being heard carries a lot of power (that's why I love what I do, which is primarily listening). As does the act of sharing your (my) vulnerability.  It's the combination of both together that creates a kind of shared power, a linked energy that I believe makes our world go round. It is the birthplace of relationship, of innovation, of our humanness.

I realize I like to listen, to help, to be leaned upon...but that I sometimes find it hard to know how to start a conversation about my own malaise. I convince myself that my friends are too busy or too burdened with their own stresses for me to bother them.  I tend to wait for them to invite me and that doesn't always happen.

But I know that these are just excuses on my part that keep me from reaching out, from being vulnerable, from showing all sides of my own humanness. I've been there for my friends...why wouldn't I want to give that friend an opportunity to be there for me?

Friendships, like flowering rock walls, require balance, including the balance of leaning and being leaned upon. And moments of connection, conversation (a mix of planned and unplanned flowers be they weed or not). And a heap of trust - that together you will negotiate the boundaries required as necessary.

What helps you navigate the waves, negotiate for the support you need?

why is it so hard?

I truly mean to write weekly.

I often have snippets in my head as I'm driving or walking or day dreaming. I notice provocative quotes that take me down a particular path and I wonder what others would take from it. I drink in the lush greens that surround me here in Rupert...and I want to write about noticing, experiencing, living whatever form of beauty touches me.

Why do I seem to have trouble getting those thoughts out of my head and onto the page? No idea.

I could claim busy-ness...but really I think I just forget...or put it off...or get overwhelmed by my choices. Fortunately I'm not often visited by the excuse of  'what's the point?' That tells me something: Keep going. Just like in yoga when you fall out of a balance pose...you simply begin again.

Lose the judgement. Just begin again.

Whatever it is you want to be doing in your life...trust that you're on your path, that it's unfolding as it's meant to, complete with zigs and zags and perhaps even some full stops. And then you begin again either in a new more aligned direction or in the one that stays continues to whisper to you.

Right? Write!

a package deal

The last few weeks I've noticed that, along with the daffodils and the bright green shoots on the trees, I too feel like I'm coming alive again. I see it reflected in my energy level, my day timer, and the number of community adventures I'm embarking on. My hibernation period appears to be over.

Being alive is a package deal though, alongside the joy and excitement comes a certain measure of pain and fear. You need the whole spectrum to feel at all.

Despite the mixed package, I'm glad I'm here right now. I recognize that over this past year I have been cultivating new perspectives and habits. Like learning to choose between equally delicious possibilities. Like allowing more empty space for me to follow my bodies cues in that moment. Like re-engaging with my vision, my dreams - and adding some new features. Like learning how to accept loss and move on.

I spent most of last Saturday reading a novel - though I'd hoped to do a long bike ride and attend a birthday party. I let myself choose an extended period of quiet, restful solitude instead. I decided to take care of myself in this way knowing I might be missing a great opportunity (meeting other horse people) and worse, might be disappointing someone. I trusted that those opportunities will come again. I trusted that if I did disappoint, they will understand and forgive me. I listened to my body and trusted its message of need, not my brain telling me what I 'should' do. I trusted my instincts.

I am surprised to discover that my reignited dreams of another renovation project are largely fueled by a desire for the barn to once again be a retreat space for workshops I want to lead here. This past year has helped me gain a better understanding of why this is important to me. My creative juices are stirred up as I begin to address each of the hurdles that are part of reaching that dream. What feels different this time is that I am approaching it with more patience, a sense of letting things unfold in their own time. I am embellishing the vision and will let it move forward in little steps as they present themselves.

As for pain, loss and all those things...well that I just have to accept as part of the journey. I am learning to ride those waves knowing that other feelings will follow soon enough. I let the tears flow and then go for a walk in the woods, or to a community meeting/event, or I write a song. I know I can influence what I allow my mind to focus on. And right now I choose health, music, community, beauty, friendship, family, learning, nature, renovations, and my vision, to name a few.


All in all, as I reflect, I'd say there is much more joy than pain in this current package. Good to notice.

body mind connections

How goes the dancing? Did you try the experiment I suggested? I did and loved what it moved inside me.

I chose to dance to Melissa Etheridge "Your Little Secret" album to help me shake out my feelings. I haven't listened to her in a long time so it was a bit of a nostalgic journey too. I was reminded about how much I appreciate the passion and energy she puts into her music and lyrics. I knew I wanted upbeat but realized that it's actually passion and energy that I want to feel again. Being able to express a fear, a desire so open heartedly.

Oh to have that kind of courage in both my music as well as my life!

Here it is about 10 days later. I'm just now realizing that last night I was noticing that I was feeling more engaged in what I am doing, the choices I am making, the risks I am taking. (Signed up to write a song and perform it next week!) These are signs that my passion and energy are indeed returning!

Of course there are many inputs to this moment. I'm sure that attracting new clients, getting over my third cold in two months, the warm spring sun, my first bike ride of the season - all of these things also contributed to how I'm feeling.

Still I think shifting my focus - out of my head and more towards my body - played a significant role. Feeling and expressing my longing physically and musically alongside someone who I believe is echoing that passion, released something inside. This intuitive matching of what I wanted to feel with the music of another reminded me that such feelings exists in the world, that it is even desirable, that I'm not alone. So along with feeling like I had some accompaniment there is a sense of being affirmed.

At the very least dancing to music you like is a fun interlude. Viva la danse!

dancing the journey

I just saw the creative spiral image on The Fertile Unknown site. Ah the stimulation of a visual. It prompted this musing:

"The experiential learning cycle...shows up everywhere with different names. I love spirals - a pictorial representation of our process:  full of curiosity, mystery and possibility.

The visual also conjures up movement for me, a reminder to dance along the journey...be that a slow waltz or a lively jig! What I get from this is I need to engage my body and my emotions as well as my mind."

And in this moment what I am realizing is I need/want to dance more! Shake out winter and welcome spring ...embrace a fresh perspective that a change in season can bring. Shake out old thoughts that aren't helpful and welcome new ones that are aligned with who and where I want to be.

Let's do an experiment:  go find a favourite piece of music, one that matches how you're feeling. Get up and dance/move along with it. Notice how you feel after one or two dances. Then play some music that is more about what you want to feel...and see where it takes you. Let me know what happened for you...and I'll do the same.

Cheers,

Linda

forgiveness

Lately I've been reading about forgiveness...and the mirror concept is here too. What I notice in someone else is often a reflection of what is also a part of me. 

When I feel disgust, anger, disappointment or even rage at another person's behaviour, I take this as a nudge to look inside and see what in myself I am reacting to. What am I possibly denying exists in myself? What might I need to forgive in me?  It's been hard but I have to admit it also resonates deeply.

Think back to a situation (could be a movie scene) where someone is being bullied. Which of the behaviours do you most react to:  the person who is not standing up for themselves or the bullying behaviour of the person yelling at the other?  Would the bystander who you perceive as turning a blind eye or the one who steps in be more likely to trigger a response in you?

You will likely say 'it depends'. OK, notice what it depends on too. Is it the age, status, gender, ability of the people involved...the time of day, the context of the situation or even whether you are privy to that or not. It's still information for you.


I've always had a sense that forgiveness starts with forgiving myself. Not sure if that's something I learned or just felt intuitively. What I'm reading now* is giving me some words and concepts to understand why that might be. Acknowledging, accepting and seeking support to forgive myself begins the process of healing and releasing its negative hold on me. When we forgive ourselves, when we offer ourselves compassion, a sense of peace is often the outcome. I have no need to forgive the other anymore...there is simply compassion for us all as we try to live our lives as best we can.

Forgiveness does not mean condoning behaviour that is disrespectful, illegal or unethical or down right mean. Boundaries still need to be set. We each need to find our own response to any situation.  That response when from a place of compassion holds more hope for our world than when not. 


Try it. Try forgiving yourself something and see if compassion towards yourself extends to the person or persons that trigger that response.  Perhaps the peace you feel will inspire a book or a song or the creation of a piece of art...or a creative approach to a challenging situation.

Speaking of creative inspiration, let's remember too that the mirror reflects things we appreciate and love in others as well. That voice, smile, strength, way of seeing ... that's in you too ... ready to be embraced, enjoyed and expressed.


* "The Findhorn Book of Forgiveness" by Michael Dawson; Findhorn Press, Scotland, UK. 2003

turning point stories

The other day I gave a team I was working with the exercise of bringing in an artifact that represented a turning point in their life. I thought that would be a good warm up to our discussion on our response to change.

On the day of the retreat just about each person said how they struggled with this exercise - even the person who had helped design the theme. That surprised me. Some said it was hard to find the object to represent the story they would tell. Some struggled with which turning point to speak about. Others felt they had none to speak of. 

My guess is that sharing a story that was important to us was what was scary.  It's not always easy to reveal ourselves to others, especially something that touches at our core. Makes us vulnerable.

That morning, while the snow kept on falling outside, each person decided to take a leap of faith and told their story of change to their colleagues. With each story a new channel was opened with each person in the room. You could feel the appreciation, the respect and the warmth begin to swirl through the air as strengths and values and incredible courage shined through. 

No one had to go that deep. No one had to do the exercise at all if they preferred not to. But everyone found the inner resources to do so, each in their own way.

I'm curious as to whether the exercise, introduced with words like 'artifact' and 'turning point' was what led to such deep stories? Perhaps if I'd asked for 'objects that symbolize a change in your life,  equally interesting but perhaps more superficial or guarded stories would have come out. Who knows?

My hunch is that this particular group was ready, no matter what way I introduced the exercise, to tell these stories, to reveal themselves...and to be heard.  I also suspect that the pre-work we did leading up to the day helped create the readiness, the initial safety for such candidness to occur.

If anyone from that team are reading this, I'd love to get your perspective. And anyone else's too.