Sunday, March 23, 2014

Tools for the Journey #34 - Enough


1. pronoun: as much or as many as required.
    synonyms: sufficient, plenty, a sufficient amount, an adequate amount, as much as   necessary;  a sufficiency, an ample supply; one’s fill; there’s enough for everyone.

2. adverb: to the required degree or extent (used after an adjective, adverb, or verb); adequately. 


I've spent a lot of time (or perhaps 'just enough' time) pondering the concept of enough. How much is enough? What determines when we have enough?  In our consumption-based society the messages we get everyday from the media are we do not have 'enough' and should go out and buy more. There is a scarcity mentality rather than a gratitude mentality and this perpetuates the sense of needing more. As consumers this is bad enough, but for our souls this is far worse. How many of us can truthfully look ourselves in the eye and say, 'You are enough" and believe it? If we can't do this then how can we help our children see themselves as enough in a world telling them daily on television that they are not thin enough or beautiful enough or smart enough or rich enough?

Recently I had the blessing of reconnecting with an old friend I hadn't seen in many years. Tom A. is the person who 26 years ago gave me the gift of 'enough'. His perspective about ’enough’ became an important navigational tool for me on my life-journey and his words have echoed in my head and heart all these years especially during times when I found myself in the trap of not believing I had enough. In many ways his words became my True North on the topic of 'enough'.

When I met Tom A. he was a mountain-man living completely off the grid in Colorado. He quietly embraced his minimalist lifestyle un-apologetically and he was a master of how to live lightly upon the earth. He was conscious of his carbon footprint before most of us knew what a carbon footprint was. He was the first person I'd ever met who was wholly content with exactly what he had and he lived each day as completely 'enough'.

Tom showed me enough. How to see enough, how to live enough and that I was enough exactly as I was with nothing missing. Before I met Tom no one had ever told me I was enough just the way I was, but he did and it changed my life.

We sat under the stars on the side of his mountain and he spoke words far wiser than might be expected from the mouth of one so young (he was 29 years old at the time). He spoke softly and without judgment or malice about what it means to live with enough and to be 'enough'. Those conversations impacted me more than he ever knew and only now, 26 years later have I had the chance to express my gratitude for his generosity of spirit with me back then.

Today I'm happy to report Tom has withstood the test of time. He continues to live his credo and has stayed true to his life-stance of choosing to reside in a place of 'enough'. He is still a mountain-man (albeit living on a different mountain) and his carbon footprint remains ever so light upon the earth. He continues to live by example and chooses to dwell in a place where what he has is completely enough.

He is still articulate in his quiet way and my conversations with him now are as provocative as they were back then. He still challenges me to be a larger, more awake version of myself. His world-view is bold and lucid and well considered though certainly not popular with those more comfortable in the mainstream.

His focus and outlook is more...panoramic, if you will. His quest seems to be how we can find a way to be content with what we have and also serve the larger common good rather than just continuing to accumulate more and more stuff. He abhors the perpetual quest for more stuff because it weighs us down and misses the point; thus making our lives smaller and less than they might be. Perhaps his message is that 'less is enough' and his life is a shining example of how richly textured and beautiful residing in a place of 'enough' can be.

The miracles of this life rarely happen in huge, flashy moments; they more often occur in the tiny, nearly invisible moments which are far too easily missed. Tom's gift to me - the miracle of helping me develop the eyes to truly be able to see and experience what I have as enough (and who I am as enough) was one of those tiny miracle-moments which happened on the side of a mountain in starlight. It was a gift quietly and humbly given without strings attached by a stunningly beautiful human being and it impacted my life in ways I find difficult to adequately articulate.

I don't hold Tom on a pedestal - he is entirely human. He's as fallible and fragile as the rest of us and I would not dishonor him with a pedestal. No, I place him right where he should be - on rock-solid ground in all his humanness. Yet even so, he is a samurai of enough. He is still wise beyond his years and one of the best people I’ve ever been blessed enough to call my friend. His friendship is one of the most important of my life and his unselfish willingness to sing me awake has meant the world to me…but I must admit the gift of his love and his friendship is more than enough and more than I’d ever have asked.

In-Joy and gratitude,

Saturday, January 25, 2014

Tools for the Journey #33 - New Eyes


Perhaps it's logical to think of eyes when we encounter someone who has lost the physical use of theirs. Since I first met Erik Weihenmayer in 2008 I've spent a lot of time thinking about eyes, and more importantly about what constitutes seeing and vision. Before I met Erik I never made a distinction between sight and vision; now I do.

If you ask me what is the most significant lesson I've learned from Erik I'd have to say it's the concept of having 'new eyes.' As a sighted person I undoubtedly take seeing for granted and had long made the mistake of thinking of sight and vision as synonymous. The time I've spent with Erik and as I've studied his books and heard him speak (publicly) I now am more clear in my understanding of what constitutes seeing and true vision.

Where I've been blind in my life, Erik has shown me how to have vision and new eyes both looking back at my past and also looking forward towards the future. He's shown me if I look with my eyes I'll see what's there, but if I look instead with my heart perhaps I'll see what's possible out beyond the edges of what's visible. However, if I'm truly going to 'see' in this fashion I need to use new eyes.

When I think about Erik and his vision I think about dragonflies. Why dragonflies? I suppose the easiest way to answer this is by sharing some of how the world sees dragonflies.

The dragonfly, in almost every part of the world symbolizes change and adaptation. Change in perspective and also metamorphosis of self over time as one develops a deeper understanding of life.

The Japanese word for dragonfly is 'tombo' (sounds like toe-m-bow). In ancient Japan the samurai used the symbol of the dragonfly on garments and ornaments to represent power, agility and victory and as a reminder to never give up. The dragonfly held a special significance to the samurai because their seemingly tireless movement reflected the samurai's desire to give tireless service to his feudal Lord. In Native American culture dragonflies are symbolic of transformation, speed, light and purity.

Dragonflies are characterized by their large multifaceted or “compound” eyes. Each compound eye is comprised of a collection of as many as 30,000 hexagonal lenses called ommatidia. Together, these thousands of ommatidia gather information which produces a mosaic of “pictures” within the brain of the dragonfly. With this mosaic the dragonfly has a vast and textured vision of the world which empowers them to move through their environment more purposefully. The fact a dragonfly can 'see' 360 degrees at all times symbolizes the potential uninhibited vision of the mind and the ability to see beyond limitations. 

The iridescent, reflective properties of a dragonfly’s wings and body symbolize (for me) how who we are gets ‘reflected’ out into the world. Iridescence is the ability of colors to change based on the reflection and refraction of light. As we journey we have a choice about how we reflect and refract the light (or darkness) we encounter. How we perceive this light depends on which set of eyes we're using.

Dragonflies can fly in all directions - up and down, backwards and forwards, and can also hover. This flexibility and adaptability means they can move through their surroundings with fluidity and are better able to deal with the challenges they encounter.  

Like the dragonfly, Erik is flexible and adapts to his surroundings using the mosaic of information he gathers with his version of compound eyes. Just as the dragonfly, he is a land and (through kayaking) a water creature. Both physically and metaphorically he seeks high altitudes and great depths. He's shown me by example how the willingness to have new eyes can transform challenges into catalysts for real change in my own life. The use of these new eyes has given me perspective and helped me to keep moving even during times when the desire to lay down and quit has been overwhelming.Chin up, cheer up, wake up, lighten up, persevere and reach have been resounding messages.

My new eyes have helped me to see adversity as wind for my sails rather than an anchor to weigh me down. Most importantly is the constant reminder that I always have a choice on how I see adversity.

Erik challenges me to cross the abyss which separates me from myself and does this with humor and candor and with the kindness of a true brother and compassionate friend. These words from him ring true in my head and my heart:

"Success is not just the crowning moment, the spiking of the ball in the end zone or the raising of the flag on the summit. It is the whole process of reaching for a goal and, sometimes, it begins with failure."

It's the whole process! All of it. It's the fumbling as well as the touchdown and even when I'm the very last person to cross the finish-line the important thing is I started and that I kept going; I persevered when it would have been far easier to give up. It's pressing on in the face of fear. It's the use of these new eyes when everyone else can't see what I see and trusting myself regardless of the naysayers. It's the act of REACHING not so much what it is that I reach.

On top of mountains weather can change fast. On rivers the currents can flip you over and thrash you against the rocks. In life things happen which can knock all the wind out of us in an instant. Resisting these things doesn't do any good, but using new eyes to help respond to this adversity absolutely makes a difference in how iridescent we become and thus the difference we can make in our own life and the lives of others.

The new eyes I envision for myself are dragonfly-eyes; compound eyes which provide me with a mosaic of vision. Going forward I want vision more than I want to see because I know my old eyes can play tricks on me. My old eyes are more prone to see illusions whereas my new eyes are more apt to see the 'truth' of the see what's possible. I want to be responsive, adaptable and willing to change. Most of all I want to be more creative, courageous and bold in the use of these new eyes.

Recap: New Year, New Eyes, walk on and ROCK ON! Vision - pass it on!

Blessings on the journey!

PS - For more information about Erik and his work you can visit his website:

Time Magazine wrote this about Erik:

"There is no way to put what Erik has done in perspective because no one has ever done anything like it. It is a unique achievement, one that in the truest sense pushes the limits of what man is capable of."

  "What's within you is stronger than what's in your way." - Erik Weihenmayer

Saturday, January 18, 2014

Tools for the Journey #32 - Building Muscle in Surrender and Trust

                        "Sometimes your only available transportation is a leap of faith."
                                                                       - Margaret Shepard

If I tell the truth I'm not a huge fan of not knowing. At fifty years old I'm a planner rather than a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants type person. I wish I was more the later than the former, but there it is. This being said, there are things you just can't plan for and this is where having leap-of-faith skills comes in pretty handy.

leap of faith
noun: leap of faith; plural noun: leaps of faith
1. the act of believing in or accepting something intangible or improvable, or without empirical evidence. 

The problem with planning is even with the best plans things don't always work out. You neatly cross your T's and dot your I's and you can still fail miserably. In those horrid moments when all the best laid plans completely fall apart there are a few options. First relax (yea, right) and realize this is yet another opportunity to build muscle in surrender and trust, and then take a deep breath and decide which road to take:
1. Improvisation (aka: roll with it). 2. Retreat and regroup. 3. Grab a pint of something or another and call it a day.

When faced with situations we have no control over my former Aikido sensei would say:

 "Be willing to enter the sanctuary of 'not knowing' and have the courage to wait."
                                                                                       - Wendy Palmer

The older I get the more I'm trying to reside in this sanctuary and in the 'every moment as a creation' place. It's sometimes a labor to remember to be patient with myself as I craft my days - especially when things don't go as planned! This life-walk is a constant faith-experiment and I've still got wobbly-colt legs when it comes to letting go of control and allowing 'not knowing' to be OK.

Recently I read a wonderful book: The Abounding River by Matthew & Terces Engelhart. In the book they address the importance of 'building muscle in surrender and trust.' Building muscle - who doesn't want to do that, right? These simple words transformed the way I was looking out of my eyes at a challenging situation. Maybe I don't have to fix things immediately; perhaps being patient with a willingness to not know might be the wiser path but in order to do this I'll need to build up muscles I've let atrophy.

Surrender and trust. Two small words with weighty implications; both require elasticity and vulnerability as well as leap-of-faith skills. Being vulnerable means we must give up our obsession with surefooted-ness which in turn increases our risks of stumbling and falling and being smashed against the rocks of life. Here is a story many of you may remember. It's a favorite of mine and one I often think of when I find myself clinging to, and residing in fear rather than surrender.

Once there lived a village of creatures along the bottom of a great crystal river. The current of the river swept silently over them all -- young and old, rich and poor, good and evil -- the current going its own way, knowing only its own crystal self.

Each creature in its own manner clung tightly to the twigs and rocks of the river bottom, for clinging was their way of life, and resisting the current was what each had learned from birth.

But one creature said at last, "I am tired of clinging. Though I cannot see it with my eyes, I trust that the current knows where it is going. I shall let go, and let it take me where it will. Clinging, I shall die of boredom."

The other creatures laughed and said, "Fool! Let go, and that current you worship will throw you tumbled and smashed against the rocks, and you will die quicker than boredom!" 
But the one heeded them not, and taking a breath did let go, and at once was tumbled and smashed by the current across the rocks.

Yet in time, as the creature refused to cling again, the current lifted him free from the bottom, and he was bruised and hurt no more.

And the creatures downstream, to whom he was a stranger, cried, "See a miracle! A creature like ourselves, yet he flies! See the messiah, come to save us all!"

And the one carried in the current said, "I am no more messiah than you. The river delights to lift us free, if only we dare let go. Our true work is this voyage, this adventure."

But they cried the more, "Savior!" all the while clinging to the rocks, and when they looked again he was gone, and they were left alone making legends of a savior.
-- From Illusions by Richard Bach
I adore this story (Thank you, Mr. Bach) because it simply and delightfully shows the power of surrender and trust. What wonders await us when we relax our grip and let go in our lives? What marvels will we encounter when we stop clinging in fear to everything we know and instead take a leap of faith? What is waiting for us 'down stream?' Yes, there's the chance (even the likelihood) in the short term we could be smashed against the rocks but as the story told: time, as the creature refused to cling again, the current lifted him free from the bottom, and he was bruised and hurt no more.

What lies ahead in 2014 is a mystery, but without a doubt there will be blessings and bruises, joy and grief, endings and bright new beginnings. Savor every glorious moment and seek growth with all your might no matter what happens. If we refuse to cling again and instead endeavor to trust the flow of the river I believe we will be lifted free from the bottom and miracles will be waiting for us down stream.

Recap: surrender and trust (repeat often)!

Blessings on the journey!

   "Doubts arise in the absence of surrender." - Ramana Maharshi

Friday, January 3, 2014

Tools for the Journey #31 - The Courage to Disappoint

                     "There can be no deep disappointment where there is not deep love."                                                                                    - Martin Luther King, Jr.

I've always had a fondness for cairn stones and due to the corresponding symbolism with some recent hard-as-rock life lessons I decided the first 'tool' of 2014 should have a picture of a cairn rock formation.

Cairns are found all over the world from moorlands to mountaintops and from desert to sea to tundra in the far north. The word cairn comes from the Scottish Gaelic: càrn. Historically there were practical, mystical and mythical reasons for cairns to be built. One of my favorite bits of history is this: An old Scottish Gaelic blessing is Cuiridh mi clach air do chàrn, "I'll put a stone on your cairn". In Scottish folklore it's believed that before the Highland Clans fought in a battle, each man would place a stone in a pile. Those who survived the battle returned and removed a stone from the pile. The stones that remained were built into a cairn to honor the dead. This was done to relate the longevity of stone to the eternal nature of the soul.

In North America and Europe the most common use for cairn rock piles is to mark trails especially in mountain regions at or above the tree line. Placed at regular intervals, cairns can be used to indicate a path across difficult terrain and are often placed at junctions where the trail direction is not obvious, and may be used to indicate an obscured danger or a point of interest.

Recently I followed my heart from New England to Alaska with the intention to live in Anchorage. I planned and worked and sacrificed to accomplish this goal and it took tremendous courage to walk across the myriad stepping stones to get there. Before I arrived many people I care about worked extremely hard to make my transition to Alaska as smooth as possible, however within a short time after I arrived I realized there was no way this was going to work. I was as certain of the necessity to leave as I had been about the desire to move there. The challenge became finding the courage to disappoint the people I love who worked so hard to prepare a place for me there and who wanted me to stay. I sure could have used a cairn formation to warn me of difficult terrain ahead.

I sat in my apartment in Anchorage in the wee hours digging deep for the courage to take the steps I knew I needed to take even though taking those steps would cause pain for myself and others. I was feeling the intensity of my own disappointment and knew it was only a matter of time before I would also have to feel the powerful disappointment of the people I love. The cairn stones of my life were teetering precariously and about to come crumbling down around me.

Rocks can be broken to pieces when hit hard enough, like your self confidence or your heart.When thrown, a rock can hurt or protect us. Rocks can be both weapon and tool just as they can be used to build a gate or wall. Rocks in rivers direct massive flows of water; with enough water flowing around them over time they change shape and become polished and beautiful as the rough edges get smoothed away. Stepping stones can help us move forward, but we alone must be brave enough to take the necessary steps to reach the other side physically or metaphorically.

The other day someone asked me what I was most afraid of and my reply was: 'not being brave.' The desire to be courageous runs soul-deep in me and has for as long as I can remember; it's a driving force pushing me across the stepping stones of life. I've never wanted to drink at the water's edge, I want to step out, I want to dive all the way in to the rocky, deep water - I want to be brave as I walk, run, climb, dance and swim out to my life. But in order to do this there are times when it's necessary to have the courage to disappoint others in order to be true to myself. And it also means sometimes I make larger than average mistakes.

I don't know if moving to Anchorage was a mistake but it was the receipt of new information after I arrived which made it clear even with the best of intentions (on everyone’s part) this was not going to work out. Once I understood this I had to get down to the business of setting things to rights, and if I was going to be true to myself I needed to find the courage to disappoint my loved ones. This has been one of the most difficult things I've ever had to do and it has not been without painful disappointment all the way around.

Life doesn’t always go as planned and things don’t always work out the way we want. People we love let us down and expectations come crashing to the ground. From there disappointment can rise up inside with an intensity that can knock the wind right out of us. It is with humility I write this blog post. My heart is heavy because even though I found the courage I needed to do what had to be done, there's also the painful awareness that people I deeply care about are now upset with me and disappointed with my decision to leave Alaska.

When I returned to New Hampshire one friend said to me: "No one is immune to disappointment but when we get stuck in regret and resentment then we're bound to miss the lesson. So, what's the lesson?" I'm still looking for the answer but I believe it lies somewhere among these 'cairn stones' strewn at my feet.

The stones:

*There are lives we lead and lives we walk away from and both can be joyful and painful in turn.
*If we seek growth then we must be willing to endure growing pains.
*Greater views comes from greater heights and this requires climbing.
*With the walls we scale and the mountains we climb there will be some falling.
*The pain we suffer often has resulting scars.
*Being true to oneself is an honorable and courageous endeavor though not always easy.
*Moccasins can only be worn by one person at a time - don't judge if you're not the one wearing them.
*The depths and heights we reach come at a price but are always worth it in the long run.
*The struggles we overcome shape who we are as people.
*The losses we've known and the losses we've caused can be painful, but pain passes.
*There is value both in the old we let go of and in the new we bravely seek.
*Success is not final and failure is not fatal; it's the courage to continue in the face of our fear which counts.
*The choice to forgive (self and others) is a high-road worth traveling.
*Sometimes it's scary to reach out into the darkness - reach anyway.
*The greatest power we possess is the love we embrace, the love we give and the love we share.

There's a line from a favorite song which keeps coming to mind these days:
 "It's a funny thing when your world falls down; it's got a way of showing you what you're all about."

At the moment it certainly feels like my world, my cairn has fallen down, but the blessing is I didn't hit rock-bottom. With the loving support of many precious friends I'm slowly but surely getting back on my feet, dusting myself off and one by one picking up my cairn stones. Yes, I've got some scrapes and bruises but they'll heal. I'm praying with time those who are disappointed in me about my decision to leave Alaska will come around and open their hearts and arms to me again because life is short and none of us is guaranteed tomorrow.

Happy New Year!
Blessings on the journey!
In-Joy and Gratitude!

Song mentioned above: The Heart of Dixie by Danielle Bradbery

Monday, September 2, 2013

Tools for the Journey #30 - Brick Walls

The brick walls are there for a reason.
The brick walls are not there to keep us out;
the brick walls are there to give us a chance to show
how badly we want something.
- Randy Pausch

Blog post #30 seems about as good a time as any to address this under appreciated and misunderstood Tool for the Journey. I'll admit I didn't begin to grasp the potential when faced with Life's strategically placed brick walls until I read the above quote by Randy Pausch.

I was cruising through life like any other person and far too often bumping into the dreaded brick walls. One moment the brick wall du jour was just a frustrating barrier to where I wanted to go, and the next instant...BAM! Poof! Ta Da! A moment of crystalline-clarity and a paradigm shift thanks to Professor Pausch! This Tool for the Journey goes to show you never know where or when a new tool will be presented to you.

Randolph Frederick "Randy" Pausch (October 23, 1960 – July 25, 2008) was an American professor of computer science and human-computer interaction and design at Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

Pausch learned he had pancreatic cancer in September 2006, and in August 2007 he was given a terminal diagnosis: "3 to 6 months of good health left". He gave an upbeat lecture titled "The Last Lecture: Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams" on September 18, 2007, at Carnegie Mellon, which became a popular YouTube video. He then co-authored a book called The Last Lecture on the same theme, which became a New York Times best-seller. Pausch died of complications from pancreatic cancer on July 25, 2008. (Wikipedia)

The day I first heard The Last Lecture the weight of a ton of bricks was lifted off my shoulders. I'd been banging in to brick walls with frustration and fully believed they were there specifically to keep me out of where I wanted to go - or at the very least to slow my progress down considerably. It was Professor Pausch's quote which paradigm-shifted everything for me with regards to these red-brick-barriers.

A paradigm shift provides us new eyes on an old problem. The new paradigm isn't something we slog towards and figure out over time, but is rather a instantaneous shift of consciousness past which there's no going back. It's not more knowledge as much as new knowing; once seen it can't be unseen.

Previously brick walls were seen as purely negative; they were to be despised, resisted and sometimes even walked away from even if it did mean turning away from a goal or destination I was passionate about. Randy Pausch changed all of this for me. Talk about an alchemist! He turned the lead of terminal cancer into precious 'gold' which he left behind for us to make use of if we would just open our hearts and minds to The Last Lecture.

We all have our loads to burden, but we get a choice on how we bear our load and how we deal with adversity. Will we sing in the lifeboats or complain and make the journey miserable for ourselves and those traveling with us? Will we brave the brick walls we encounter or turn away because it's too difficult to find a way over the top or around or through?

For me these 'news eyes' are the secret. This Pausch-paradigm-shift has given me a new frame of reference, a way of looking at the problem which I didn't have previously. My friend, Erik Weihenmayer talks about how we can choose to use adversity as fuel. He asserts we don't succeed in spite of our adversity, but rather because of it. I think Professor Pausch would have liked this idea.

As I stand here before my present brick wall I've got my red cape on and I'm electing to use my new eyes. I'm not resisting the brick wall, nor am I pounding my fists (or my head) against it or trying fruitlessly to push it down. Am I uncertain how to get to the other side? You bet! Does it seem unmovable, impenetrable? Absolutely. But the good news is I'm still here, I'm figuring it out and I'm not giving up whereas before this is the point at which I might have stopped. Now in the back of my mind I hear Professor Prausch telling me this barrier is only here to give me the chance to show how badly I want what is on the other side. The new paradigm empowers and encourages me to find a way to scale this wall or blast through it or take it down brick by brick if necessary; whatever it takes. I can take this wall. I'm up to the challenge.

If you need to drive a nail and you have a hammer then it's a pretty simple task because you have the right tool for the job. However, if you have a nail but no hammer this simple task becomes a problem which is difficult to solve. Thus, having the right tool for the job makes all the difference. Randy Pausch provided me with the right tool for the job of dealing with brick walls and it is a valued tool for my journey.

I can't leap tall buildings or brick walls in a single bound just yet, but I'm working on it and getting better every time I try. OK, I'm not saying I'm Wonder Woman, I'm just saying no one has ever seen us in the same room together! (wink)

Here's to the journey!

“The questions are always more important than the answers.”
- Randy Pausch

Saturday, August 24, 2013

Tool for the Journey #29 - Comfortable in my skin

In our culture, age doesn't represent wisdom
it represents deterioration. That's 
infuriating, really.
- Debra Winger

I turned fifty years old in July and its taken me a some time to pull my thoughts together about this tool for the journey. I'm cognizant that 'I've reached the halfway mark in a hundred year life' and I'm hoping there really are still as many years ahead of me as are now behind me.

As I stood before the cake filled with so many candles and wishes, my impulse was to look back rather than forward. I've traveled a long way and I've got plenty of dust on my boots from my travels and adventures and now it was time to take stock of my journey so far.

My past is present for me like so many shining coins at the bottom of a fountain. There's a lovely patina on these memories from all they've weathered on the adventure with me. It's a funny thing about memories - they get sweeter with time as the rough edges wear down and as we gain perspective and wisdom along the roads we travel.

Some memories are visual - you can see them crystal clear in your mind's eye, others are visceral and some sensual as they stir up our senses and transport us in a flash to some distant point in our past. There's a texture and value to these memory-coins I carry, and I like to pull them out and hold them up to the light once in awhile. They provide comfort just like looking at photos of home when away on a long voyage.

I told a friend recently it seems to me fifty is the time to tell the truth - at least to oneself. Time to look back, assess and be honest so perhaps the road ahead might be less bumpy. It's my hope this looking back will help me to figure out going forward how to keep my eyes open even through the scary bits. I've spent too much time closing my eyes through the scary parts of my life and as a result I've missed some things I wish I hadn't.

My past is standing at my shoulder now urging me to be courageous - to keep my eyes open as I look back and also forward. Clearly something must 'die' in me, or at least I must let something go, in order for over-fifty-me to burn more brightly on the road a head. There is both glorious light and also darkness behind me, and I know there will be more darkness ahead (as well as light) thus, whatever I can do to illuminate the path going forward seems worth doing even if it's a bit scary.

This assiduous analysis I'm undertaking may seem self-indulgent. However, there is treasure here at fifty which I don't want to miss. Some I see clearly, some I can only sense but I know it's here even if I can only see it out of the corner of my eye. I've slowed down so I can discover the 'gold' here and take in the view from this particularly hard-won vista.

When I was younger I had more of a tendency to listen to external voices, but now my own inner voice has center stage (thankfully). I've finally accepted that I'm acoustic not electric - always have been and I like it this way. I used to fight it but finally, blessedly I am comfortable in my own skin and I'm less judgmental of my flaws and faults; more patient with myself and others.

Have I made mistakes along the way? You bet! Do I have regrets? Yes. Have I hurt people I love dearly? Unfortunately. Would I go back and do some things over if I could? Without a doubt and without a moment's hesitation. I'd un-say hurtful words and un-break hearts. I'd worry less about what the world was thinking and climb out on the skinny branches far more. I'd  dare more and sing more and speak my mind more. I'd read more and share more and remember to be grateful more. I'd get outdoors and look at the sky more and worry far less about chores. I'd take more chances and I'd work harder to stay naive and full of hope in spite of the hard blows. I'd remember that every single moment is a creation and I'd create more.

For my 50th birthday I'm gathering up my regrets and my mistakes and letting them go like helium balloons into a bright sky. I don't have room for them on my journey going forward because I plan to travel light and these things have been weighing me down. My first husband and most precious friend, Douglas taught me about the importance of traveling light. He also taught me how to trust myself and ultimately gave me the keys to how to be comfortable in my own skin. I owe Douglas, and many other wise-souls I've met along the way, a debt of gratitude for being willing to be my teachers even when I was a reluctant student. It is through their loving tutelage that I arrived safely to my fiftieth birthday.

As I sit here tonight quietly watching the sun head off for places west somewhere, I'm overwhelmed with gratitude for my journey and the people who I've been blessed enough to share it with. My life is richly textured and has an acoustic melody I know by heart thanks to the people I'm blessed enough to call my friends.

As for the road ahead - I expect big changes and no doubt some steep hills, but I also expect joy - lots and lots of joy.  So, my most sincere birthday wish is no matter how many bends in the road - nor how frightening it might be in the dark times - I may be bold and courageous as I walk forward with my eyes wide open (even through the scary bits!)

Here's to the journey and the next fifty years!

The wound is
the place 
where the light
enters you!

Sunday, June 30, 2013

Tool for the Journey #28 - Wing-Prints

Lately I've been thinking a lot about impact; about what impacts me and about what impact I have on the world around me. These ponderings bring me back to when, as a child, my mother told me about something called, the Butterfly Effect.

Wikipedia defines the ‘Butterfly Effect’ in this way:

In chaos theory, the butterfly effect is the sensitive dependence on initial conditions, where a small change at one place in a deterministic nonlinear system can result in large differences to a later state. The name of the effect, coined by Edward Lorenz, is derived from the theoretical example of a hurricane's formation being contingent on whether or not a distant butterfly had flapped its wings several weeks before.

This tool is meant to have us consider our own Butterfly Effect and our 'wing-prints'. It's about what we give back to Life, to the Earth and to our fellow travelers. It's also about what we must cut away (or Life must to cut away) to reveal what is hidden beneath the surface of us in order to lighten us up. I love the butterfly metaphor because it represents transformation in its truest form. Once you enter the chrysalis there is no going backward. 

If you examine the Chinese paper-cut image above you'll see a beautiful example of the alteration of a single sheet of plain red paper into a stunning butterfly. The person doing the cutting does not mourn the paper which was cut away, but rather enjoys what's revealed in its absence. Life does this with us - it cuts away what doesn't belong, what's weighing us down (if we let it) so we might be light enough to fly, and it doesn't mourn what was cut away but celebrates instead what is revealed, just as Michelangelo didn't mourn the marble dust at his feet.

"I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free." -Michelangelo

Our  ecological "footprint" is a measure of our human demand on the Earth's ecosystems. Our footprint is the impact we leave physically on the planet - .it's what we are taking from the world as we travel.Our 'wing-print' is what we're giving back; the less visible impressions and generous-impact we have on our world, and more importantly on each other as we journey through this life.

What is my 'Butterfly Effect'? What hurricanes of goodness might be caused by the beating of my wings? What wing-prints do I leave behind as I travel and what sort of impact do they leave in my wake? Life knows things we don't - it sees the entire map, whereas we tend to focus on the bumps in the road. Yes, there are times when there is barely enough light to see by, yet whether in lightness or dark we still make positive or negative impacts with the beating of our wings by the choices we make. For better or worse we do leave wing-prints.

My soul-brother and friend, Randall Williams had this to say about it:
"We do little things all the time, and mostly never see how they affect the world around us. But they matter in ways we may never know. Please keep doing what you're doing - especially the stuff you put your heart and soul into. Our world needs this a whole bunch."

'Our world needs this' yet life is busy, bills need to get paid, our kids need to be fed and we have to go to work each day. So perhaps there isn't a lot of extra time to sit pondering our wing-prints on a day-to-day basis. However, even when we are not paying attention, even when we are being swallowed by the minutia of life, we're still making our mark and leaving our wing-prints; we get to choose whether to leave them consciously or unconsciously.

Personally my biggest fear is that I won't be brave, or I'll 'fall asleep and miss my life' and in so doing, will leave reckless or damaging wing-prints. Thus, I work to be courageous and stay awake at all costs. I work to keep my eyes open even through the scary bits because I want my journey to be an act of devotion which translates into leaving affirming, positive, powerful wing-prints in spite of the bumps in the road.

One isn't necessarily born with courage, but one is born with potential. Without courage, we cannot practice any other virtue with consistency. We can't be kind, true, merciful, generous, or honest.”  
– Maya Angelou

So how do we do this? How do we find the courage to leave positive wing-prints? The secret, I believe, is in the exhale. If you're going to jump off a high cliff into a deep pool of water what do you do first? You inhale - you hold your breath, you maybe even close your eyes really tight, and you jump! But after you make the leap you must (at some point) exhale into what you've chosen. Once you leap you must commit to where you're headed. Once you've reached the end of the runway you're supposed to fly and commit to your wings and the sky ahead of you. You can't crawl back into the chrysalis. 

One thing I know to be true after nearly 50 years on this earth - the human heart has a tremendous capacity to light up the world around it. Through us love flows out into the world, and our wing-prints, our Butterfly Effect does cause ripples in wider circles than we may ever see or know. Thus, for me at least, I strive to be mindful of my impact and my wing-prints; of what I am taking, what I am giving back and what I am paying forward. Because what good are feet and wings (and hearts) if we don't use them?

There are things our wings know which we do not. A butterfly emerges from her chrysalis never having flown before...yet once her wings are unfolded and dry, she flies! Trust your wings! Take flight and stay mindful of your wing-prints because the slightest flutter of your wings could change the world!

Here's to the view from the air!

“The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough.” 
 ~Rabindranath Tagore