Going Within

“From a small seed a mighty trunk may grow.” – Aeschylus

Greetings to all, and I hope the last two months of summer were wonderful for everyone.

Wow, it has been quite a while since I sat down and wrote. What happened to me? I was simply living life. My sons and I took a trip to New Mexico and Colorado. We spent time with close friends, and time together with just the three of us. We watched for bears, hiked, visited places we loved and explored new ones. I worked my nonprofit-social work job and within that created two day-long presentations, brought a few projects from my mind into reality, all the while feeling blessed that within my work there is so much room for expression and creativity. 

We got the school year started, and last week at work I facilitated a retreat for a group of non-profit executive directors at a state park called Quartz Mountain. In preparing for those three days, I took of my usual professional hat, creating room to develop a presentation that enabled us to explore neuroplasticity; have fun, new experiences and bring what we learned personally to our jobs.
 
But I wasn't writing and it bothered me. I felt unusually silent. Yet, within my silence I was aware of a deep, inner stillness. I felt peace. I felt a quiet joy.
 
There is usually a reason when we feel we need to be quiet and go within. Often there is a seed - an idea, wisdom, or understanding- that is taking root.

I feel myself emerging from my quiet space, and am going to trust that from a small seed a mighty trunk may grow. As autumn approaches, stirring the mystical inside of me,  I am awaiting epiphanies.
 
Wishing Epiphanies for Us All,
 
Sheryl

45 New Things

“A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions.” -- Oliver Wendall Holmes, Jr.

In the months before my 45^th birthday, I had what one might call an old fashioned mid-life crisis. It manifested itself internally rather than in the more stereotypical ways we have all witnessed. As I did this internal evaluation, I knew that as much as I had enjoyed my life, I wanted to keep growing, expanding and experiencing rather than growing ever more comfortable and complacent in my “zone.” So, my birthday gift to myself was a challenge: Do 45 new things over the next year.

I hiked the Narrows in Zion. I got myself to Bryce Canyon after more than a decade of saying I wanted to go. I took my sons kayaking down a river; we hiked the Grand Canyon and experienced Carlsbad Caverns. I got my first pedicure, did a zip line adventure, read Thoreau, consciously tried new ways of dealing with patterns in my most significant relationships, got certified as a Life Coach, and the list goes on.

About a month ago, I downloaded a free trial of some “mind mapping” software to use in my coaching. I have always been intimidated by technology and it was completely unlike me to experiment with software with such reckless abandon. What had gotten into me? I was going to add this to the list of 45! Or wait--- was this new behavior a result of the list of 45? What I did know was that I had subtly changed.

A year has passed, and on my 46^th birthday, my sons and I boarded a plane for Puerto Vallarta as I have done for the past 23 years. On the plane, I looked at the “45” list in the back of my journal, somewhat in awe. I was beginning to see the ways in which the impact of these new experiences permeated into all areas of my life.  And then I noticed that the list stopped at 43; I didn’t actually meet my goal.

The weather in Mexico was unusual while we were there, and one morning I found myself completely alone on the beach, sitting under a palapa, while it poured down rain. It was beautiful, and I made a mental note to remember how peaceful I felt in that moment. When my sons arrived, they of course went straight to the water. The air was cool, but I pulled off my cover-up, ran through the rain, and submerged in the Pacific in spite of the storm. When I came up for air, I looked toward the mountains emerging through the dark clouds in the distance. What an incredible morning it had been.

Then it hit me; I had never experienced the beauty of a sitting on the beach alone during a storm. Nor had I ever been swimming in the ocean while it poured down rain. And with that realization, my list of “45” was complete.

Many Blessings,