Today You Are You, That Is Truer Than True (or how I celebrated my birthday)

 

48 years ago I burst into being.

It was Easter Sunday, I was two months early and took my mom by surprise. She says I’ve been impatient ever since. They say patience is a virtue, but it’s never been one of mine. Mostly, I’m not too upset about that.

I love birthdays. I always have and I always will.

What’s not to like?

  • Cake
  • Gifts
  • Parties
  • Surprises
  • Attention
  • Celebrations
  • Cards in the mail
  • Candles and wishes

I love. . .All. Of. It.

48 years.

And what I know without a doubt is I’m here to live out loud. I’m here to live authentically.

And I am here to help you shine.

Some days I feel like a supernova, burning so brightly I may explode before fading from view.

There’s an urgency I’m starting to feel. I’m on a mission to live as fully as George Bernard Shaw put forth in Man and Superman,

“I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work, the more I live. I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no ‘brief candle’ to me. It is sort of a splendid torch which I have a hold of for the moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it over to future generations”.

Today I’m out celebrating a life well lived.

I’m not quite ready to hand over the torch, but I’m happy to share some things I’ve learned along the way.

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Leaning Out

Juliet's balcony

I used to live in a loft in a hip part of town. Too hip for me I sometimes thought.

The loft had a European style balcony; not really a balcony at all but rather a railing just beyond the door with maybe a foot of standing room.

The year I lived there was one of the most challenging of my life.

My business which had started off strong was struggling; my confidence diminishing daily. And the root of it all was a story.

A story that, over time, became a touchstone worn smooth in my pocket. Sometimes I would finger it lovingly, speaking it aloud like a mantra. Other times I’d bring it out into the light, examining it from every angle.

Once in awhile, the story would keep me from sleep, and I would write. Pages and pages of story. With each telling it became more detailed, more real, more damaging to both my mind and my heart.

One part of me knew the story was a lie. But I hung onto it like a drowning man to a life preserver.

Why would I do that?

The story had ceased to be a story.

The story had become the truth.

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Playing the Game of Love

What’s this talk of a game?

Call me crazy, but I think love is a game.

And like all games, how you play makes all the difference.

Before we get into the “rules”, let me share a bit of my story and what changed my thoughts on love.

You see, my heart was broken once, long ago.

So very broken.

It felt irreparable and I believed that life would never be the same.

And it wouldn’t be the same. Ever.

How could it be?

No matter how hard you try to repair something, it can never be what it once was.

That’s not to say it can’t be better, but I never thought of it that way all those years ago.

I simply felt damaged. Broken beyond repair.

Jasmine Lamb says, “Most of us long for love, look out for love, worry we are too late for love, but not enough of us live love.”

Jasmine is so very right.

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That’s How the Light Gets In

 

“And I listen and I think. Time doesn’t seem to pass here; it just is.” – Bilbo Baggins

Rivendell retreat centre sign, Bowen Island, BC

Silence called to me from a special place. A place, that like its name, conjures up images of forest and faeries.

Like Bilbo, it is at Rivendell I find myself most able to think, to hear the thoughts and ideas bubbling up as though from a wellspring deep inside.

The sacred space, the silence, allow me to turn off the busyness of my life. My heart expands and I breathe deeply.

New thoughts emerge effortlessly as old thoughts play themselves out. It is easy to be at Rivendell; it offers itself up, a gift to unwrap slowly. An opportunity to treasure each moment, each thought that arises.

  • What is it that I am truly offering?
  • What is authentically, gloriously mine?

These are the questions I hear as I walk the labyrinth.

centre of the Rivendell labyrinth, Bowen Island, BC

I remember a line from a Leonard Cohen song,

“There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.”

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What Will You Do With Your One Precious Life?

“What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” – Mary Oliver

“What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” – Mary Oliver

You’ve probably read that quote before; maybe it even inspired you…for a moment. Did it actually change anything in your life though? Did it spur you to action or have you commit fully to a dream?

I didn’t think so. Me neither.

And yet? I love that quote, which is actually the last line of this poem.

The Summer Day by Mary Oliver
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

Maybe I’m quirky, but it’s the second last line that inspires me, “Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?”

The idea that my life is precious appeals to me, but it’s the reminder that everything dies “and too soon” that inspires me to action.

Consider that you don’t often do what it takes to honour that one wild and precious life. You don’t, and it’s time to tell the truth about that.

You talk about it. A lot.

You make promises and New Year’s resolutions, you join programs and support groups, spend money and waste time.

Now, until I’m on the other side and can share my perspective from the afterlife, I’m pretty sure this life? Is all you’ve got. Right here. Right now. This is it.

It’s not a practice life either.

This. Is. It.

But when you think of your life, doesn’t it seem infinite, like you have all the time in the world?

Except, you don’t.

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Dear Georgia (or why I came to Santa Fe)

 

Before I discovered coaching, photography was my passion and before that, painting.

One of the painters that inspired me (not only with her art but also in how she lived her life) was Georgia O’Keefe. Today as I wandered the streets of Santa Fe I couldn’t help but think of her and the land that captured her heart.

sunflowers in Santa Fe

“I decided that if I could paint that flower in a huge scale, you could not ignore its beauty.” – Georgia O’Keefe

adobe buildings in Santa Fe

“I found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn’t say any other way – things I had no words for.” – Georgia O’Keefe

sculptures Santa Fe

“To create one’s own world in any of the arts takes courage.” – Georgia O’Keefe

Santa Fe has long been on my list of places to visit and it feels wonderful to finally be here. I am soaking up the sun, the colours and of course, the spirit.

What place is calling to you, and why?

 

I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead

in·som·ni·a

noun: inability to obtain sufficient sleep, especially when chronic; difficulty in falling or staying asleep; sleeplessness

Lately? There’s been A LOT on my mind. I recently launched a new project and it’s all good. It’s just – a lot you know? And it’s keeping me up at night. From the running to-do list to the many what if’s, the thoughts play like an endless tape causing the undesired state of sleeplessness.

The usual remedies? Not. Working.

From sheer excitement (and probably an overdose of adrenalin), I’ve already been running on much less sleep than normal. But what exactly is normal when it comes to sleep?

Opinions vary, but there’s some consensus that the optimal amount in humans runs 7 – 8+ hours for adults. I’ve been averaging more like 4-6.

Hmm, should I be exhausted? Continue reading

Everything is practice

 

Sometimes I am blinded by the light.

My light.

Sometimes I go to a dark and scary neighbourhood.

In my head.

It’s bleak in there.

I do my best not to visit very often, but sometimes?

The pull is magnetic.

It’s a slippery slope once I’m there, but over the years I’ve discovered a few ways to pull myself out of the dark and off the slope.

 

How to Resist the Pull

1.  Unplug

I step away. From my laptop and phones. I turn off all the ringers, bells and whistles. Simple? Yes. Easy to do? Not so much.

But here’s the thing – it works every time.

“Every step you take is a step away from where you used to be.” – Brian Chargualaf

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