Plugged into Silence

 

The plan was to take a few days off, meander through rural Washington and spend some time with my husband Mark.

Masters of the road trip, we often leave town for 3-4 days with his camera and my laptop in hand.

Time together pursuing our passions. His passion for the seaside towns of the Pacific Northwest often get him out of bed early, while I settle in with a cup of coffee and my laptop. Usually, I organize or find Internet access so that I can check in. Not quite unplugged, but the volume turned down considerably.

This time however, I unplugged completely.

We wandered, relaxed, took photos, read books and enjoyed each other’s company.

Silence crept in, at first like an uninvited guest.

two buddha heads side by side

But I soon found myself appreciating it, my mind no longer wondering what was happening elsewhere. I know from past experiences with silent retreats that I am nourished by silence, but in the busyness of life I forget.

Be here now.

Easier said than done sometimes.

Most times.

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Hit That Reset Switch!

Ordinary People Doing Extraordinary Things

Ordinary People Doing Extraordinary Things

A few weeks ago a tweet caught my eye as Nichole Kellerman announced a contest to win a spot in a wellness program she was offering. Because I’ve been lucky and have won a few things in the past few months I threw my hat in the metaphorical ring hoping to win.

I’ve gotta say, I didn’t read all the details of the contest as I was kind of swept away by my enthusiasm to win again.

Fast forward a week and I get the notice that I’m in! Yay!

A spot in Nichole’s program is mine and I proceed to go back and read the details.

Oh oh. . .

My first thought was “Oh no, it’s a diet! Damn! I refuse to get back on the diet bandwagon, now what do I do?”

So I contacted her and came clean. I hadn’t read all the details, I was sorry I’d wasted her time but I simply was not interested in dieting.

Her response impressed me. She encouraged me to modify it as needed to feel good doing it. She really heard my concerns and empowered me to choose and said she’d understand either way.

Hmm. . .her integrity was apparent and I agreed to participate with the modifications we discussed.

Fast forward two more weeks. . .

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Disarming the Critic

 

The Vagabondage Series:  Elana Baxter on lizard busting.

 

I recently became aware of just how much and how often my inner critic pipes up to tell me how badly I am doing things. How much better, more productive, kinder, and more __________I need to be.

black and white image of hand holding cup with word critic on it

And when the critic isn’t telling me that, it’s attacking my body, eating habits, parenting, cooking and cleaning.

Be more!

Do more!

It’s a constant rant punctuated only briefly by sneaks of quiet.

I have come to the only sane conclusion that a woman experiencing this incessant haranguing can. . .

The inner critic must die or at the very least it must be sedated. Heavily.

I am tired of beating the shit out of myself. Every ounce of energy spent hating on myself, nitpicking, correcting, disallowing and crapping down my own throat!

I can’t get that energy back. And I can’t get the time back.

It’s gone. Forever.

Here’s what I do in order to allow some space and begin showing myself some love and compassion.

I disarm the voice.

You know the voice, right?

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Being With What Is

 

Guest post by Rita Chand – Sharing the being part of human being.

 

I’d just hung up the phone with Sandi after calling her to help me deal with something. She had asked if I was up to writing something about this experience I was having, that it was something her readers could probably relate to. I love Sandi so saying no to her isn’t an option. Little did I know I’d be inspired to write something as soon as I hung up the phone. But she’s good like that.

[pullquote]“There is the risk you cannot afford to take and there is the risk you cannot afford not to take”. ~ Peter Drucker[/pullquote]

On Monday, I found out I didn’t get a job that I really really REALLY wanted. The process lasted a month, the job was exciting and amazing and it was everything I wanted. Everything I’d been talking about for quite some time. Happiness couldn’t be found sitting at my desk day after day anymore – I needed more, desired so much more. And this job offered it.

But, I didn’t get it. After all that, someone else did.

And it’s okay. . .ultimately it is.

It wasn’t meant to be.

There are bigger, BETTER things out there for me.

It’s her loss.

And all the other platitudes that people say to make us feel better. They want to help so they say what they know to say. I appreciate that. But we all know it doesn’t help. None of those things help. And I think we know that too. God bless people for being so awesome.

My friends are sad for me. . .well actually, most of them are just sad that I am sad. They didn’t want me to move away, so some have shared they are relieved.

So yes, it is okay. Ultimately.

Does it feel okay? No. Did I cry for 2 days after? Yes.

Even at the gym. I just cried. I’m disappointed. Heartachingly, gut wrenchingly disappointed.

sculpture in dejected pose

I don’t know about you, but I don’t do disappointment very well.

In fact (don’t tell anyone I said this) I think disappointment is one of the worst emotions to deal with. I’d rather be pissed off. Or better still, indifferent. I can do those really well.

But to sit in my own disappointment. . .forget it.

Disappointment is like the cooties of feelings. There’s nothing redeeming about disappointment. It just downright sucks.

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Mastering the Art of Living

 

On the left side WORK. . .

“Your work is to discover your work and then with all your heart give yourself to it.” – Buddha

Which part of that statement is true for you?

Half? Neither?

Be honest with yourself.

 

 

On the right side REALITY. . .

“The person who is a master in the art of living makes little distinction between their work and their play, their labour and their leisure, their mind and their body, their education and their recreation, their love and their religion. 

They hardly know which is which. They simply pursue their vision of excellence and grace in whatever they do, leaving others to decide whether they are working or playing. To them, they are always doing both.” – Zen Buddhism text

Now imagine this. . .

Work you enjoy.

Work that fulfills you.

Work that you’re here for.

On this Labour Day. . .

let yourself begin creating a new reality.

 

 

How to Be Rich and Happy: Spotlight & Review

Follow Friday Series

An Admission, A Review & A Spotlight

Follow Friday Series

The Admission

I started talking to Tim Brownson about having him in the spotlight months ago. I wanted to combine the Friday spotlight with a review of Tim’s book (co-authored with John P. Strelecky) and that’s when my procrastination kicked in.

In my 15+ years as a student of personal development and 10 years of coaching I’ve read a helluva lot of books, and the title How to Be Rich and Happy made me groan aloud.

book cover for How to Be Rich and HappyReally Tim?

How to Be Rich and Happy???

Sounds so. . .I don’t know. . .too good to be true maybe?

It’s fair to say I had a reaction to the title, which began the cycle of procrastination, putting it off time and again.

If I’d told him, he’d probably have laughed and had me read An Easy Way to Beat Procrastination where he says,

“As a human being your brain is pre-programmed to avoid pain whenever it can.” 

At first I thought, “What pain? I love doing these spotlights!” but the pain quickly became clear.

The pain was related to my reaction which lead me to believe I wouldn’t like the book itself which lead to “I shouldn’t review this book”which lead to why the hell read it then!? I’d completely forgotten it had started with a desire to have Tim in the spotlight.

The worst thing about the procrastination was the blow to my integrity, one of my core values. Honouring my word is essential to my well-being. I’m not kidding, it really is that important to me and here I was putting off something I said I’d do months ago.

When you’re committed to walking your talk, the only thing to do when your integrity goes out is clean it up. That I hadn’t kept my word became a fierce thing in my mind, staring me in the face like one of Tim’s Dobermans!

So I read the book.

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Sticky Stories and the Lizard That Stops Us

 

The Vagabondage Series:  Elana Baxter on escaping the comfort zone.

 

We all have weaknesses and not just one or two.

Some of mine include English period films, glossy magazines, gossip sites and espresso. But there’s one weakness I’ve yet to divulge until today.

Worksheets.

I know, a bit anticlimactic and not even a bit risqué. But nevertheless, I have a soft spot for worksheets.

So when my coach told me she would be sending some along – not one, but some – I was ready to dive in and start neatly answering all of the questions, eager to ponder each one with focused consideration.

Then they came.

After the initial introduction discussing my favourite subjects – ideal work and living a life you love – I hurried to the next section to begin. That’s when the can of worms began to squirm uncomfortably.

List what you dreamed of as a child seemed a simple enough statement. I could do that. Plus, I’d been instructed to slap a roll of duct tape on the lizard brain in order to do the work and just write whatever felt right and true. I resolved to quietly ignore the squirming worms and move on.

Visions and memories of dancing, singing, writing, drawing, painting, playing music – they all came to the surface. I looked at my answers. All silent contemplation went up in flames. The worms started a full-fledged riot, apparently not happy in their can and my lizard brain had removed the duct tape muzzle (lizards are tricky little bastards).

I can’t dance now! I’m too old.

Singing? There’s no time for s i n g i n g!

Painting?!! Now you’re really talking a fine tune right out of your ass lady!

And so on.

Every joyous memory and hopeful vision, dismantled by the lizard and a chorus of obnoxious worms with a story to tell.

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Make Way

Listen.

“Make a way for yourself inside yourself. Stop looking in the other way of looking.”

stone sculpture Deep Cove, British Columbia


The words are Rumi’s.

They stopped me in my tracks. . .

“Make a way for yourself inside yourself.”

 

They speak to me of space, of slowing down, of creation.

Make. A. Way.

My way is different from yours.

Make your way.

And stop looking elsewhere.

 

The words are Rumi’s. The meaning is yours.

Tell me.

 

Choosing for the Longterm

Two years ago today I chose a new life.

I went from Me to We.  

wedding photo of Mark and SandiI chose to spend my life with one person.

About a month before our wedding we met with a marriage commissioner who shared the wisdom gained from 10 years of marrying people.

She said agreeing to marry is a choice, the first of many. For marriage to work it takes more than love.

It takes choosing every day.

Every.  Single.  Day.

Choosing when you don’t feel like it or don’t want to.

Choosing through all the emotions and moods and resistance.

Resistance?

Yes, because resistance comes up any time you choose to do something that threatens the status quo, threatens the safety and security of your life.

Relationships do just that don’t they?

But they also do so much more.

They open you up in ways unexpected. Like the time Mark wrote me a love note every day for a month. Each note, cracked me open just a little bit more.

They challenge your old stories. Like the story I’d created that lived as the truth for many, many years. That story kept me single and safe.

They grow you up. After years of being single and doing whatever I wanted when I wanted, it took something for me to consider another person and their needs. There are still days I don’t want to.

And then I choose.

I choose to do the work it takes to honour our commitment.

I choose to be responsible about my feelings.

I choose to to keep choosing.

Two years ago today I chose Mark Faviell.

Creative. Intelligent. Unconditional.

When I think of what I love most about him, these three words come to mind.

I chose him.

And he chose me. We have a pact.

730 days of choosing.

With many more to come.

Happy Anniversary to us.

 

 

Living a Life Less Ordinary

A life less ordinary takes integrity.

It takes being a stand for something greater than yourself and today’s spotlight Stacey Herbert lives this way.

You might be wondering why I’m posting a Friday spotlight on Saturday and my answer is integrity, or rather a breakdown in integrity. I’m going to be writing more about this in future but for now let me just say this –

the level of integrity that’s gotten you to wherever you are becomes insufficient to take you to the next level of whatever you’re up to in life.

Simply said, what got you here won’t get you there.

And I’m talking about my own integrity for a moment. I could give you the reasons and excuses for why the spotlight didn’t run yesterday, but what’s important is that it didn’t, not the why. Part of the power that lies in integrity is the ability to acknowledge and clean up the breakdowns quickly, without the drama.

How could I not own this breakdown and then have Stacey here as a guest? She writes brilliantly about what she calls the integrity gap:

What started out as an integrity breakdown has quickly become an opportunity to realize there’s a gap, and what better time to own that than here in Stacey’s light?

So without further ado here is Stacey Herbert, a fellow philosopher (we both love the work of Brian Johnson and his Philosophers Notes). I encourage you to read her blog and follow her adventures. I trust you will fall in love with her as I have.

 

headshot Stacey Herbert1.  Why are you here?

If you’d asked me this question a little while back I may not have been able to give you an answer. I was stumbling through life, having wonderful ups and life altering downs.

I had no focus and struggled to put a label on me or identify my purpose in life.

Then something incredible changed in me. It’s been a long time coming and at times very painful, but it’s opened me up to who I am and why I’m here.

Although it scares me to articulate it publicly, the reason I am here on this earth is to love, encourage, enable and support people to live their best, most highest, audacious life. It doesn’t sound like much of a job description, but I’m slowly coming to terms with that. My first task is to lead by example.

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