Following The Invisble Lines That Bring Us Home

As I reflect on #101DaysofConnection I have to laugh. I started this project as a way to overcome my fear of loss. I thought that if I felt more connected I wouldn’t feel the impact of loss so deeply. I thought it wouldn’t hurt as much when I, or someone I love, felt pain because I would be overwhelmed by the connection we have and my appreciation for that connection would overtake or minimize any hurt.

It makes me think of my friend Patrick’s family. When I was 18 years old my friend Patrick died. He was a healthy 18 year old, going to college and one day he leaned over to tie his shoes to go for a run and he fell over dead. No reason, no cause. It was as if God reached down and plucked his soul from of his body.

The funeral was so emotional, people were sad, understandably, but they were angry too. How could this happen? It was SO unfair! He was a healthy, kind man; he didn’t deserve to go so soon. Everyone had an edge to them except for Patrick’s parents who seemed so calm. They were of course heartbroken, grieving the loss of their son but they knew God had a plan. They knew this was the work of something greater than they could comprehend so they let go what wasn’t theirs to figure out and mourned the loss of their son.

Pat’s younger sister had the same state of mind as her parents: sad AND comforted by her faith that something bigger and better was in control. I remember thinking that if my brother died it would wipe me out. I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed for a year because it would hurt so much.

The truth is that now, after #101DaysofConnection, I got exactly what I intended for.  It's just not that way I thought it was going to happen.

For example, I was reading a post from my friend who had breast cancer had written and she is so inspiring. She has had to make a choice for treatment and her decision making process is truly exemplary.  There are SO many opinions out there of what to do and why, each one condemning the other options for their side effects. Nothing is guaranteed nor can we predict how she will respond to any of this so the conditions for making a decision are, let's say, less then ideal.

So what has she decided to do? Go all the way baby, no holds barred. Her basis for decision-making rested on one question, “What would I do if there was no discomfort or inconvenience involved?" She refuses to make a choice out of fear just to avoid some potential uneasiness or difficulty. She is the kind of person who will never have to question if she did everything in her power to do. I admire that so much about her, this is why I love her and why we are dear friends.

While I was reading about her process and final decision I was so proud, so thrilled. She is Kick Ass! Her attitude is unflappable. I wrote her a note to share my joy and admiration and I then moved on.

Isn’t it amazing that we can be completely at peace in one moment and completely distressed in the very next moment?

The state I entered after experiencing pride and love for my friend is a condition I affectionately describe as, “dropping my sh!t.” I was pissed at how unfair this situation has become! My friend is making decisions she shouldn’t have to make and I am NOT ok with this at ALL! She doesn’t deserve this! And where is God in all this, huh? I know this isn’t punishment or direct cause and effect and my looking back and asking the question “why” doesn’t get me anywhere but F*&K IT! I want some answers!! THIS ISN”T RIGHT!!!

I let myself have my upset, the full scale of it. I cried, I screamed, I wrote it all out, I let it all go and when I was done I went outside, took a few deep breaths, felt the sun on my skin, reminded myself that everything is ok in this moment right now, and went back inside the office to make phone calls. (Yup, I did this in the middle of my work day. Can you imagine doing that in front of all of your co-workers?).

The next day I was in a workshop and I shared my experience from the day before and I realized that I had accomplished my intention for this connection project. I am more connected to my friends, family, body and spirit then every before. My mistake in the beginning was thinking that connecting would shield me from feeling pain, but it does quite the opposite! It makes me more vulnerable to pain and loss.

And the last piece of learning I needed in this project came on day 100 in the workshop where I realized that when I feel the pain and loss I can react to those feelings like Patrick’s family, with faith and love. I do have faith that these people are in my life for a reason and that I am in their life for a reason. Our hearts are bound together by invisible lines of connection and my heart hurts when their heart hurts.

In the past I tried to shut down the connection because I didn’t want to feel the pain but it meant I had to sacrifice deeply connecting and loving others. I could only love them as deeply as I was willing to experience pain. Life will not get easier the more I love and welcome the lines of connection with more and more people. So I will rise to the occasion. I will grow into a person that can handle change and feel grateful to be so connected with the people I love that I hurt when they hurt.

We are all in this together and relationships give us a beautiful opportunity to choose: are we going to quit when things get tough or are we going to do what it takes to stay connected no matter what? If joy shared is joy doubled and shared sorrow is half the sorrow then I want to lean in when my friends and family are in pain so we can cut our sorrow in half. I believe we are handsomely rewarded when we make that choice and I know the people I love would do the same for me. It's just as Ram Dass says, “We are all just walking each other home.” When my heart is open to connection and all the beauty and terror that comes with it I am better able to be a great walking partner, which is all I care to be. 


These projects are so magical! I can’t wait to start my next one on kindness.

Love At First Sight

Last week I was sharing with some girlfriends that I have been revising my impression of spiritual connection. Over the last 90 days I have felt very connected emotionally and physically but I have a tendency to resist making a habit of any spiritual practice because my views of God are antiquated and defunct; I have had this fixed idea of God being a benevolent old man sitting in the heavens watching over us since I was seven years old. Although I appreciate the “Santa Claus” persona my developing mind created for the Almighty, I am looking to update my perspective.

My girlfriend, Susan, suggested that I write a “want ad for God.” I loved the idea and was excited about what kind of creativity I could lend to this assignment. All my enthusiasm could not overcome my old picture when I put pen to paper. The same image floated through my mind and down to the paper as I wrote. My want ad consisted of the same banal language of the original idea. I struggled with it for nearly a week until today when I was sitting in a café and came into contact with a total stranger. 

She was alone and had a small face, small body, thick dark hair and young eyes.

She looked at me and smiled and then looked away. I felt an instant connection. I thought, “How nice of her to notice me and smile.” For a moment we shared joy, two total strangers connected through kindness. Just a fraction of a second we were connected and I could feel an opening in my chest. I was instantly in love. How can that be? Do I really love her? How can I love someone completely unknown to me?  

This is not uncommon for me. I have had this experience quite often actually. 

I have a habit of people watching. I am fascinated with humans, how they act, what they do, what they say, how they laugh, how they connect. I love watching how people sit, eat and walk. I examine their face, the posture of their body, where they carry their weight, etc. I like to come up with a story about them.  I dream about what kind of life they have had. I imagine what kind of people become their friends. I wonder about their hobbies and interests. I want to know what makes them happy, sad, or scared. 

Every once-in-a-while I see someone sitting alone and for a moment I can see the kid in them. I can see what they looked like when they were seven. When people think they are not being watched they are at peace, free to be himself or herself and I observe innocence in that person. I instantly fall in love with them. 

Sitting in that café today, with my husband, I nudged him and asked, “Do you see her?” He nodded. “I love her,” I whispered.  Lindon just smiled, he knows this isn’t romantic love or attraction. I just… love her. 

After we left I asked him what goes through his mind when I profess love for strangers. His response shocked me. He said, “Cass, you always say stuff like that. No different then any other time you have said you loved someone.” After further questioning he reminded me of the last person I fell in love with in an airport. 

When we were traveling to India, Lindon and I were waiting for our flight drinking a cup of chai. A man sitting behind Lindon caught my eye. He was slim but his face was round with long hair down to his shoulders neatly tucked behind his ears. He was nicely dressed; jeans, collared shirt, vest, jacket. He was sitting alone eating a fruit parfait, with this legs crossed at his ankles tucked under the chair and wrapped around the leg of the chair. I loved him instantly. He was so sweet, content and well put together but so unassuming and understated. 

Lindon saw me staring at him and brought it to my attention because let’s face it- it’s rude to stare. Before I tore my stare from this man I “prayer boomed” him. I thought to myself, “Hi friend, you are so sweet. I love you. Have a safe flight. Have a beautiful life full of health, happiness and love. May you feel appreciated for being so uniquely you. I appreciate you.” 

And the best part is that these people stay with me. I can remember the dozens of people I have fallen in love with over the last year. When I reflect on these moments their faces come to my mind and I am filled with joy. This is definitely something I love about myself. 

Evidently this isn’t something that a lot of people experience fror strangers so I have been curious about it and the more I write about it the more I realize this is my experience of God. This is how I connect spiritually. My want ad isn’t for God because God is ever present in all things, at all times.  All I need to do is deliberately create the conditions under which I experience God.

WANTED

Love At First Sight: I am actively seeking occurrences where I deeply connect with someone else in their experience and share it with them. I am relaxed, peaceful and open. I am positive, supportive and intend to leave others with a prayer or appreciation for who they are and the joy they can bring in a short encounter. I look for the innocence and childlike wonder in those I meet and I am patient knowing that essence lives inside everyone and I exercise compassion until I find it. I open my heart to all and love unconditionally those around me. During this time I will leave the people and places better then I found them. 

All I want is the experience of falling in love over and over and over again. The freedom I feel in those moments profoundly moves me and I will live forever changed and grateful for noticing the greatness in others. 

This feeling is my experience of God.

Giving and Receiving

Saturday when I woke up I had a very normal morning.  I got out of bed, turned on the tea pot, did sun salutations waiting for the water to boil, poured myself a cup of tea and sat outside to write my morning pages. The morning pages went as usual, a little resistant at first as my mind wakes up and then I got into a good pace and thoughts flowed out of me and on to the paper effortlessly.

I wrote about some dreams I have about giving on a broader scale. I want to live a generous lifestyle. I want to have free time to volunteer. I want to work for Techo and build houses in Brazil. I want to teach at the school I visited in India. I want to go to a convalescent home twice a week and just be with someone.

 "It is better to give than to receive" hummed in the back ground of my mind but I had no idea how much that belief dictated my actions until later Saturday afternoon. 

After I finished up my morning pages the morning continued to be normal. Took a shower, had breakfast, got dressed ready to go to a workshop and waited for my husband to pick out an outfit to drive me to the office.

Yep. That is when things got strange...

I was waiting for my husband to pick out an outfit??? He has one style (that he sports very well) and it takes him all of three minutes to make a decision, get dressed and go.

Now, all of a sudden, he is Goldie Locks, "this shirt is too small!" "These shorts are too big!" "This doesn't match." I thought he had lost his mind. I am frantically trying to put outfits together that he will like because I need him to get out the door so I can be on time.

Then it dawns on me, this is weird! What am I doing? I look at him and I say, "You are stalling on purpose!" He looks me straight in the face and says, "Yes."

Instantly my energy sinks and a nervous pit begins to swell in my stomach. This is odd behavior and now I know it is on purpose and I don’t know why. I plead with him to tell me while he pretends to be distracted by getting dressed. All of a sudden there is a knock at the door.

We freeze and stare at each other.

With alarm I ask, "Who is it?" He smiles and says, "Go answer the door".  I plead one last time, “Please let me know who it is!!” He simply grabs my hand, bringing me into reality and out of whatever craziness was in my head and sooths, “Go find out.”

When I opened the door it was my sister-in-law and my nephew who live in Seattle.  Overjoyed to see them I screamed which frightens my two-year-old nephew and I jumped and wrapped my arms around them both. After whipping the tears from my eyes I asked, “What are you guys doing here?” To which my sister looks down at her son and says, “Hand Auntie Cassie the letter.” Aww… you are just a cryptic as your twin brother I see...

The letter read:

Suffice it to say my day was anything but normal after Taylor and Bobby "came over." They were followed by a ton of my friends who came from all over to participate in the adventure race. I can’t begin to describe all the surprises and fun we had so here are a few pictures from our great adventure:

My husband knew I wanted this for my 30^th birthday and we couldn’t make it happen on my actual birthday day so he collaborated with his older sister Dana to plan this entire day and make it a surprise to me. His twin sister Taylor traveled from Seattle to be apart of it and my friends arranged their plans to travel from all over to be a part of this great adventure! We had a blast!

I am beyond grateful. There are not enough words in the dictionary, flowers in the garden or cards at Hallmark to accurately express how appreciative I am for all the planning, secrecy, coordination, arranging and rearranging it took to make this day so fun and special...for me.

And yet, in a quiet moment I feel a twinge of anxiety on the heels of the whispers in my mind, “You don’t deserve this. What have you done for Dana to warrant this time and attention? You need to think of a way to repay her.”

Again, as you know, I don’t believe this self-depreciating story any more and yet I want to pay attention to it. It may not be true but it shows up in my life for a reason and I want to understand its message. So I share my observation with my husband in between adventures and as we talk I share that I believe we get what we give and right now I am having a hard time seeing what I have done to have this extravagant gift show up in my life. 

I turn to him, as he is driving to Casey's Cupcakes where there is a crowd of people waiting to sing happy birthday to me,  and with tears in my eyes I ask, "How do I know I deserve this?" 

Without hesitating he responds the most simple, beautiful truth, "Because it is in your life right now." 

At that moment I realize there isn’t a scorecard in life and love, there is no one tallying up points as to who did what for who and when.

My father in law, Lindon Crow, wrote this beautiful article about enriching the lives of others. The below is an excerpt that really speaks to me now:

“Herein lays the power of reciprocity.  When we receive we give, when we give we receive.  We must keep the flow open by always doing our part which means to receive graciously and with appreciation and gratitude and to be willing to give without reservation or fear of scarcity.  In fact, we often have to deal with a lot of resistance when it comes to giving.  But, if we don’t deal with that resistance than we will stop the natural flow and inevitably our own lives will cease to be enriched.”

My part is to give and receive graciously, wholeheartedly with as much love and gratitude as I can muster. 

So what if I can't see a direct relationship in what I have done to deserve this day. That is a flimsy way to look at it, for three reasons: First of all my self perception is unreliable at best, so I will reject that out of hand. Second, how do I know what I have given? Strangers with a kind smile and the time to show me the way when I am lost have changed my life and they don't know the impact they have had on me. Third, what I have "done or not done" is in the past and completely out of my hands. What is in my control is what I choose to do from here on out.

I want to make a contribution in this world in a big way and part of giving is receiving. I do not want to create a bottleneck in the flow of reciprocity and restrict my ability to give. I also want to celebrate and feel grateful for the amazing people in my life who do overwhelmingly incredible acts of love and kindness for me. If greatness is showing up in my life, I graciously and humbly accept and I will continue to look for ways to give and receive with an open heart and the continued desire to return the love I feel and so deeply appreciate. 

Inviting The Unexpected In For Tea

What if I didn't think cancer was a problem? 

What if I wasn't “fighting cancer” or “being a cancer survivor” or “battling cancer”?

Now I don't have cancer (as far as I know) but several people in my life do. Two people I deeply respect and care about recently got the news that they have cancer and their response to the news changed my life and my story about cancer forever. 

When one of them told me we were face to face. She knows full well my history with cancer and she wanted to be delicate because of my situation (Can you imagine the beauty and decency of someone just diagnosed with cancer being delicate with me? Sensitive to my sensitivity- that’s a class act. I was humbled). When she said the words, “they found a cancerous mass” it felt like I was being gut punched. In an instant every moment of sadness and loss I experienced came up at once and quickly gave way to anger, resentment and futility. 

As she continued with the prognosis; what she knows, how she feels, I listened with compassion but one questions kept circling through my mind, “Why is this in my life again?” 

It wasn’t that long ago that a strong, responsible, courageous woman (healthy by every estimation) was diagnosed with cancer. This woman was my best friend and she just so happened to also be my mom. 

Flashing back forward, when my friend turned to me, wrapping up her gentle delivery of news, I asked if there was anything I can do for her, if there was anything she wanted or needed. She simply requested, “Just be someone I can talk to and listen to me.” So simple, so lovely. It was the least I can do. 

Then I asked, “How would you like me to listen to you?” She knew what I meant and she replied, “I will let you know how I want you to listen to me but at this time all I want is your friendship and understanding.” 

I said, “Done. It’s yours, only always and forever.”  

Then I told her I had something to say and I relayed my experience to her, “I’m sad, I’m pissed, I feel helpless and yet I feel a level of excitement because I think I get to have the experience with you I wish I had had with my mom.” 

Later she asked me what I meant by that and I explained, “I held back my feelings with my mom. I didn’t tell her how scared I was and how much I wanted her around. I thought I could only tell her happy things because I thought at the time that everything else was negative and would only bring her down.” 

To which she replied and her response change my story forever. “Tell me everything. This isn’t a problem; this is just the next thing on my to-do list. I am completely confident I will handle this all very well and be a shining example to others that go through this experience. This is an opportunity to see what cancer is like with consciousness. This is your opportunity to be with cancer consciously. Put all our work into action. We may not have control over cancer but we have complete control over our attitude.” 

It had me think; what if cancer wasn’t a problem but an opportunity? I used to think cancer sucked. I was angry about cancer; I saw it as the enemy. Yet no matter how much I fought cancer, it’s still here, pervasive in the lives of people I love. 

Who would I be if I welcomed it into my life like I do every other unexpected event that pops up in my day? I don’t get angry when someone calls me out of the blue and I have other plans. I don’t lose my mind when I think I am going to be able to see a friend and she has to cancel at the last minute. I don’t feel futile when I call someone for an appointment and they don’t pick up. In fact as I am thinking about it nothing in life ever really goes exactly as I had planned. I handle each of these events as neutral; it’s just what happens. I don’t resist it or fight it. I am not a missed-appointment survivor or battling last minute cancellations; I am just some chick living in a world full of unexpected opportunities. 

Each unexpected event is another test of character, another opportunity to demonstrate the strength of spirit. 

As I pondered this idea, I reflected on my experience with my mom and smiled. My mom’s spirit and character were present with her until the very end. She had a cute lamb pillow that she carried with her everywhere she went. She called it “Lamby-kins” and she always said it in the cutest voice with a smile on her lips. She expressed her opinion, strongly, emphatically, and lovingly when ever possible.  

A memory of her that always tugs at my heartstrings was when she was very ill right before Christmas. She was sick from chemo treatments and at 7pm on Christmas Eve she looked at me and said, “We have to go Christmas shopping.” I told her what time it was; all the stores are closed by now. She opened her eyes wide, “Every store? “  To which I conceded, “Ok, probably not every store.” She grinned and said, “Good, lets go.” 

I drove my barely mobile mom around until we found the only open store where she bought hot coco kits to put in our stockings.  She wouldn’t let a moment go by where she wasn’t giving, no matter how sick she felt. 

I am sad I didn’t tell her how I felt about her then. I thought how I felt was a problem, I thought her having cancer was problem. She didn’t see it that way, but I didn’t see that until now. She handled it with dignity and grace; like she handled everything, it was just the next thing on her list. 

So here is my opportunity to be there for two people I love and welcome their experience. There is no problem, nothing to fight, and nothing to survive. If what we resist persists then I am choosing to experience this with loving, open acceptance.  Not I, or anyone I know did something to deserve this; it is not a punishment, this is just another unexpected to-do item giving us all the opportunity to respond with the best of us. I’m in. 

Here is the end of a story by Pema Chodron about a Buddhist Monk named Milarepa who went to live on his own in the mountain to fight his demons. 

“One evening Milarepa returned to his cave after gathering firewood, only to find it filled with his demons. They were cooking his food, reading his books, and sleeping in his bed. They had taken over the joint. He knew about non-duality of self and other, but he still didn’t quite know how to get these guys out of his cave. Even though he had the sense that they were just a projection of his own mind—all the unwanted parts of himself—he didn’t know how to get rid of them. So first he taught them the dharma. He sat on this seat that was higher than they were and said things to them about how we are all one. He talked about compassion and shunyata and how poison is medicine. Nothing happened. The demons were still there. Then he lost his patience and got angry and ran at them. They just laughed at him. Finally, he gave up and just sat down on the floor, saying, “I’m not going away and it looks like you’re not either, so let’s just live here together.” At that point, all of them left except one. Milarepa said, “Oh, this one is particularly vicious.” (We all know that one. Sometimes we have lots of them like that. Sometimes we feel that’s all we’ve got.) He didn’t know what to do, so he surrendered himself even further. He walked over and put himself right into the mouth of the demon and said, “Just eat me up if you want to.” Then that demon left too.” 

I’m done fighting you Cancer. It only makes you stronger and stick around longer. Ok, Cancer, come on in, sit down, have some tea and a danish, let us live here together because the best of me isn’t going anywhere.

When My Life and My Story Don't Match

The stories I think to write bore me. Every blog post I try to concoct falls flat. 

I am living happily ever after and I am bored with my story... How can this be? It makes no sense? 

Well, I am having a hard time coming up with a new story line in my mind (Ok, stick with me).  In my head I hear the same story, the same thoughts over and over, “I’m not doing good enough. I haven’t earned this. They won’t understand. This won’t last, it’s only a matter of time until the bottom drops out. You better get busy getting better.” 

Of course the story is not true and I have spent the last 5 years successfully listening to the story, inquiring about it, questioning it and moving beyond it. I am choosing not to believe that about myself thus opening up options to do something else entirely. 

There was a time in my life I believed those thoughts and my life reflected it. I put myself in situations where I needed to prove myself, where I over promised and under delivered. I was constantly disappointed with the results of my life and myself. 

Now the results of my life are drastically, beautifully, happily different AND YET my story hasn’t changed. I still hear the same thoughts, I feel the same sadness, dread, anxiety, irritation, etc. 

For example last weekend I was leading a workshop called Beyond Reasons where we facilitate people identifying their personal story they tell that keeps what they want just out of reach. It is a two-day workshop and at the end of the first day I went home after leading it and I could hear all the old familiar thoughts arise, “Oh man, this isn’t going well. I am not doing a great job leading them through this process. I shouldn’t be doing this yet. I need more training...etc.” 

This is not a new, I know these thoughts well. I just listened as my mind ranted, kicked, screamed and came up with really creative ways to fake my own kidnapping to get out of going back the second day. I even dreamt about people getting up and leaving in the middle of the workshop demanding their money back. 

I actually woke up laughing. My mind was working at a level of desperation to convince me to bail that I had not experienced before. Yet, I remained detached (Go me!). I listened to myself like I do my two-year-old niece coming up with all kinds of reasons not to eat her vegetables ending with a brilliant closing argument on why cookies are a more suitable dinner. I listen to her with fascination, compassion and a loving “No, sorry kid.” 

While I was brushing my teeth Sunday morning preparing for the workshop I was trying to avoid, I looked at myself in the mirror, admired my toothpaste lip liner, then looked into my own eyes and said out loud, “It ain’t over yet. I’m going to nail it today and I know exactly how I am going to do it.” 

The greatest thing happened after that; thoughts flooded my mind of all the ways I could pull the workshop together, what stories I could share to support the people in the workshop, ways I could ask questions to further the participants self-discovery and an overwhelming sense of assurance. 

Sunday night as I was hugging participants from the workshop goodbye, thoroughly enjoying our connection, I smiled inside. None of this would have happened if I believed my stinkin’ thinkin’. Not just from the night before but also from the thoughts the week before and the year before and so on. I made a very important decision years ago that I am capable of more than I think, and I won’t let old stories stop me from having what I want. 

I am in awe of the power of my mind and the creativity it exercises. Its ability to take something that I love and enjoy and create a story filled with doom and disappointment amazes me. AND that only happens when I stop giving it direction. Just like my niece would reach for the cookie if I weren’t watching, my mind easily wanders to the old story when I stop paying attention.  

When I lose site of celebrating my life, focusing on what I appreciate and being deliberate with my purpose and intention then my mind is apt to create the same, old, dull story. I am also noticing when I am so intently involved with my purpose, like in the workshop, that when I go to rest I should expect that in the down time my mind will run wild with that boring, old story. 

Until, one day, my life will only be punctuated by this story. It will cease to pervade my thoughts. I am sure it will creep up occasionally, especially when I raise the bar for myself and push myself beyond what I think is possible. As I enter this unknown territory it will rear its familiar head and I will, with fascination compassionately and lovingly say "No, sorry kid." 

Choosing to Be Like Water

What if you had the power to choose anything you want? What would that power mean in your life? What would change? 

I choose a great career. I feel very blessed to have found this work early in my life. I work with people to develop their self awareness so they can make more conscious choices and close the gap between what they have and what they want. 

In order to mentor someone in this process it is essential that I am a living example of the process. It is a true honor for me to live this way and share it with others.

We hired a new employee and her job is to deliver a presentation called, “Does Your Thinking Limit Your Success?” to enroll people in our workshops where we discover the thinking that is in the way of living the life we truly want.  

I am in charge of training and development of new hires. She has been training for six weeks and this week I made the decision that she was ready to lead the presentation for a group of 50 on her own. 

I shadowed her presentation and as she went on I could see that she was losing confidence. People were asking her questions that she couldn’t answer and although she did her best to answer them she lost the conviction necessary to move a room. 

While watching her, I thought, “Oh no, I let her go up too soon. She is going to be pissed. I let her down. I let the company down. I was over confident. This is terrible.” 

I felt dread, sadness and a strong disappointment in myself.

At that moment and overwhelming sense of calm took over my body and I thought, ‘No, this is perfect. This will be wonderful for her development. She will use this experience to become an example of our work. I am thrilled.” 

So as we drove home that night she was pissed. She was disappointed in herself because she thought she blew it. I stayed calm and encouraged her to look at her results and asked her questions about how her thinking limited her success. By the end of our car ride she saw how her unconscious fears and beliefs created her experience and she knew what to do next time she went up to present. 

Three nights later she delivered the same presentation on her own and enrolled 6 people by telling her story and demonstrating that they can experience the same results. 

There is so much to celebrate in this story. What excites me most is that everything happened as it should. There was an event (her presentation) and I had a million choices in the way I could interpret the event and I chose to interpret it as perfect, necessary and exactly what I want to happen to make my vision of people living happier and healthier lives come true. 

Habitually, I would have believed I screwed up and did something wrong because it is very familiar for me to see myself as a disappointment (long story). If I had gone down that line of thinking and interpreting I would have killed her spirit by agreeing that she blew it and that she isn’t ready yet. Thus discouraging her before the presentation she did three days later where she nailed it! 

That is INCREDIBLE! I am in awe of the power of this experience and this is the work that we do with people every day! In a matter of a moment I captured my habituated reaction, thought of what’s important to me which is more people living happier, healthier lives, connected myself to the new belief that everything happens for a reason and re-interpreted the situation to fit the vision of what I want.  From there I acted in a way that brought out the best in her, ultimately aiding her and myself in leading a happy, healthy life.  

Bruce Lee said, "Don't get set into one form, adapt it and build your own, and let it grow, be like water. Empty your mind; be formless, shapeless — like water. Now you put water in a cup, it becomes the cup; you put water into a bottle it becomes the bottle; you put it in a teapot it becomes the teapot. Now water can flow or it can crash. Be water, my friend." 

I can be like water. With practice, I can be formless and shapeless and move with life as it unfolds. Water is powerful. It moves with the land to get where it longs to go. Water doesn’t need the rock to move, water moves around the rock. If I give up the notion that I know how to get where I want to go and focus my energy in the belief that I will get there, extraordinary things unfold before me. 

I can create whatever experience I want regardless of the external circumstances because I have the power to see what is happening in front of me and choose my responce and flow with it like water. 

 

  

Writing a Blog

Do you like jokes? 
 
This one used to be my favorite: 
What do you call a mailman without a job? 

Just some dude. 

Trust me if used at the right time with the right people that joke can be extremely comedic. I won over my 9 year old niece and her six friends this last weekend. It was a huge hit. 

Here is another one:  
What do you call Conscious Girl without a blog? 


Just some chick. 

I do not consider myself a writer. I am sure I can't call myself a blogger, as there must be some kind of formal metric regarding the number of followers/readers one must have to qualify, which I do not. I have no official plan for this blog, no structure, no outline. In fact Ms. Summer my 10th grade English teacher, would be extremely disappointed in my lack of conceptual framework for telling my story. 

I am simply some chick that enjoys pushing her growth with public accountability. I do not have troves of readers or a community following my story. In fact I think my projects seem nebulous to the people who graciously read these posts. 

The truth is that the project and system is vague to me as well. I am trying to figure myself out in a way I haven’t seen out in the world before. I value the writings and teachings of gurus and enlightened, awakened beings but they are writing from their perspective at the top of the mountain looking down. I am looking up my mountain, attempting to document my journey as I transverse unknown territory. 

This is a tenuous process where at times I am not sure what is going to happen or how my life will unfold. So as the week goes on I watch myself and look for what may be worth a share or a second look. 

There are times I sit down in front of the computer and unconditionally vigorously write. The story is inside me begging to get out. As I write I achieve clarity through careful contemplation of sorting out a beginning, middle and end. 

Some times I sit in front of the computer and make myself write. Force creativity through a manufactured deadline that generates the perfect blend of anxiety and determination. This blend gets the job done and keeps me consistent but doesn’t yield transformative or entertaining results. 

This last week I waited. I started to write and the story I was telling didn’t feel genuine so I put it aside and watched myself, hoping that I would get some kind of lightening bolt of inspiration but it never came. I watched my weekly blog commitment come and go, lamenting the loss I feel when I break my word to myself. 

Then I  considered this process I engage in weekly and I started to reflect. I have not gone back and read my posts. No real reason why not; I just don’t think to do it. I also started to consider what I share and don’t share in this format. 

I clearly have no problem sharing my spiritual journey, my relationship or lack there of with God and my mother. I openly share my thoughts about myself, my family, my friends and my husband and our relationship (I love them so stinking much I really enjoy sharing about my relationships). I have no reservation sharing my vision, hopes and dreams and the fears that get in the way and hold me back.

Humm… so when I think about what is important to me...that’s it. What else is there? Oh yeah!! I have skillfully omitted the following: 

-       My work, what I do for a living

-       My fears about starting a family

-       My political views 

Ohh and by the way...These three topics have occupied my mind-space for the last two weeks and I largely consider them off limits. 

Why are they off limits? Easy. Reasons as follows:

-       My work is my life. I am deeply passionate about the work I do AND I make a living at it so there is a sleazy quality I feel when I share it with others.

-       My big fear about having kids is that they will get in the way of the work I love. That I will want to be with them all the time, quit my job and end up resenting my children because I gave up my dream (GULP, did I really share that in public)

-       My political views are different from the people I know and when I share my position on an issue and don’t get to explain my thought process I feel cold and misunderstood. 

Well, there is a lot to be explored here and I won’t go into it too deeply now, however, it is my intention to courageously uncover my limits and move beyond them. I feel most alive when I notice I am holding back or hiding and choose to challenge the thinking and perspectives that make me want to hide. I feel unstoppable when fear steps in to overcome my senses, pushing me down and yet I find a way to push up against it, unwilling to acquiesce. I am most powerful when I make a stand for living full out, refusing to withdrawal any of myself in any form. 

By doing this I make my life truly extraordinary and it is my intention to open that possibility in the lives of others by sharing it. So I’m not a blogger or a writer, I am just some chick excited about the possibility of everyone living in a way that is worth writing about. 

Living in a way that I am proud to pass down to my hypothetical children that I am deathly afraid of and love more then anything.

So don’t worry Ms. Summer, I have my next three topics already outlined…stay tuned.