Releasing Fears and Trying Something New

Well, after an almost three month sabbatical from writing, I composed one of these messages a few weeks ago. When I saw the final copy after it went out, I cringed, for in my haste I apparently didn't do a final proof? A word was missing; there was a typo or two. I then spent the following week feeling mortified, talking myself through my shame and hiding in my cave. 

Did I say shame? Yes, I did.

Let’s talk about that, or more specifically, the idea that it is unthinkable to make a public mistake. I say something incorrectly, don’t catch a typo, or make a fool of myself in some way, and I spend the next few weeks beating myself up and spinning in my self disappointment. I hate being so ding-dang human! Funny thing is, I would never describe myself as a perfectionist or anything remotely close.

When I confess this problem I have, I hear from others that they too have these experiences, so I am glad to know I am not alone. The problem is that these very fears of imperfection, making a mistake, or being judged that keep many of us from putting ourselves out there and sharing what we have to share with the world.
 

 You know what else? I have written about this before! Where’s the progress? (You can read it here.)

This rediscovered discomfort with my many imperfections almost stopped me from something I have been working on; a short email series on “everyday mysticism,"focused on sharing ideas about how to tap our inner mysticism while being fully engaged in this very busy and distracting physical life.

I consider myself a bit of an expert when it comes to being in the flow of the mystical river, complete with amazing metaphysical experiences, only to somehow find myself in the desert again. It’s a circle within this life of its own kind. I know I am not alone. So when I start the series, read it. Save the emails in your inbox until you have time. Create a space where you are focused and relaxed; read while you savor your morning coffee or your evening wine. Get out your journal and make notes to yourself about your own life and experiences, whatever works for you.

Okay, did I catch all my typos this time? Is it safe for me to hit the button?  
 

I hope so...

In the meantime, keep an eye out for an email labeled "Everyday Mysticism."
I look forward to sharing this time with you!

Many Blessings,

Sheryl

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

Tomorrow is promised to no one.

      “Remember, tomorrow is promised to no one.”

                             -Walter Payton

My life, of course, creates the fodder for what I write. I have begun to realize that experience, be it good or bad, holds within it the opportunity to seek grace and uncover wisdom.

Such was the source of the Timeless Waters blog for March of this year, and alerted by the message that my post contained, an old friend contacted me. Speaking to me in a language I could understand, he referenced an experience I wrote about in my book, Timeless Waters, and opened a dialog about where I was in my life. Of all that conversation contained, there was one thing he said that has stuck with me the most; “What do you want the next half of your life to be about?” He is indeed a wise man.

I took a few weeks and let that simmer. My young to middle adulthood had been about working hard; building my career, a family, a home and a life. Wrapped up in those things are my values of service to humanity, productivity, success, accomplishment, stability, and so forth. All those endeavors were worthwhile and are the foundation of where I am today. I have no regrets, but a new season of life is upon me, and with that comes the question: what do I want that to look like?

Joy was the word that came to mind; and a life fully lived. Living life fully would mean living a little differently; creating new patterns in my existence to balance out the paths of experience so well traveled the first forty five years. Joy, spontaneity, time for recreation, and tending to my list of dreams—this was what I wanted and was where I would start.

After a solo-trip to Utah to explore Bryce Canyon and Zion National Park-- an experience that fit my newly established criteria-- I told my sons I wanted them to hike the Narrows with me for my 50^th birthday.  What could be more exhilarating than a ten mile hike through the Virgin River in the heart of Zion, with 1500 feet canyon walls towering on both sides? My youngest, now 12, asked “why are we going to wait until your 50?”  He had a very good point. Two months after that conversation, I found myself hiking the Narrows with my boys, as well as Bryce and the Grand Canyon. It was a literally a dream come true. I am still not sure how I made that a reality. Come to think of it, I’m not sure exactly how this entire summer has become a reality. It is as if I am living my life from a different paradigm, and I hope it is where I have taken residence rather than a short visit.

Perhaps the quote at the top of the page should be Walt Disney’s “if you can dream it you can do it,” rather than “tomorrow is promised to no one.” Or maybe, just maybe, the two together are the formula for a joyful life indeed.

Blessings,

Sheryl