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

Rocky Mountain High

            

           The other morning I vividly recalled a precious moment from when my son oldest son was five and his younger brother was three. We sat on the ground in the park watching the fireworks. I had one sweet angel in my lap and the other tucked under my arm. Beneath the bursting sounds of the fireworks, I heard my five year old begin singing, quickly joined by his younger brother. “I’ve seen it raining fire in the sky…”  It was John Denver’s Rocky Mountain High; they clearly had an affinity for their mother’s music! This memory was quite timely as Independence Day will quickly be upon us.

            Later that same day, I walked back out to where I was sitting in the shade with a cup of Bailey’s and coffee. As I did so, I heard John Denver’s Rocky Mountain High coming from Pandora on my phone, just as he sang my very favorite line, “talk to God and listen to the casual reply…..”

            Listening to the casual reply; I hear it in the rustle of the leaves on the trees, in the way the clouds float across the sky or in the breeze as it touches my skin. Or I simply feel it in the gentle stirring that speaks to me without words. Such is communing with Spirit, and in that I find the richness of connectedness, peace and understanding.

            I smiled to myself as I sat down with my coffee, and thought it interesting that I was connecting to the lyrics of this specific song twice in one day. And then it occurred to me— we are leaving for Colorado in about a week!

            I’ve never really been a Colorado girl. New Mexico? Definitely. Arizona and Utah? Absolutely. But Colorado? Not so much. And you know what? It’s about time I visit that fourth corner of the Four Corners region.

Thank you, John Denver and Pandora, for the perfect timing and setting the perfect tone. Or should I just thank Spirit? Regardless, the message was heard. I will keep my eye out for “raining fire” in the sky, and will seek the divine in quiet moments surrounded by nature. And along with that, I have no doubt that the boys and I, along with my dear friend and her two sons, will create our own special kind of Rocky Mountain high.

Many Blessings,

Hear John Denver's Rocky Mountain High - Click

The Tribe

You may recall me writing last spring that I decided to take seven weeks off of work; a sabbatical of my own making. While the circumstances were such that I had to step into “work mode” a few times (I am an executive director of a nonprofit), overall, from mid April through the month of May, I focused on my own personal projects and being a mom. Quiet meditative mornings spent writing and connecting with Spirit, and afternoons completing a life coaching program defined my days. My time off reached its completion with a trip to Mexico; very lovely indeed.

As I knew would be the case, I hit the ground running when I returned to work, and two days after flying from Puerto Vallarta to Dallas and driving back to Oklahoma, I made the drive back to Texas for several days of meetings. I felt a little “spacey,” as my brain revved back up, but as desperate as I had felt seven weeks earlier to have my break from work, I was supercharged and glad to be back!

These meetings were no dull affair; I was with a group of people who hold parallel positions to mine from across the country. The value of our time together is why I came back to work a week earlier than I had originally planned. While we have come together to work toward nationwide goals and collaboration, these people are my professional support system.

On one of these days, I looked across the room at Bev while she was speaking, and was flooded with memories from six years earlier, prior to stepping into my current position. It was a series of dreams, likely triggered by my location in El Rito, New Mexico. In my dream, the tribe was fracturing as it became known that efforts toward “population control” due to extreme drought and grain stores had been unnecessary; tribal leaders were saving the food for themselves. The population control involved infanticide.

As I awoke from that dream, Bev’s name, first and last came to me. This unfolding continued after I returned home, and with follow up research, I came across some articles that suggested population control may have been used (sometime between 1100 and 1300 AD), and part of the tribe inhabiting the area split off and headed north to the area around El Rito. Two years later, when I was well into my current position, I would be filled with recognition as I started seeing the names that had come to me in the dream state. This loose network of individuals was the “tribe.”  

I don’t think about this often, and over the past few years of working closely with these people, I haven’t thought about it at all. Interestingly, we work in the field of child abuse and advocacy. What is this 21^st century experiment we are engaged in? And what have we come to try and do, en masse, in this lifetime?

While I have ideas about the answers to those questions, I may never know. But I am grateful, that on my fourth day back at work after a Spirit filled seven weeks, I recalled those dreams and glimpsed the greater totality in which we all take part.

Many Blessings,

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,

A Lovely Reminder

            There is a bit of history to my nights in Old Paris, but first play with me and pronounce it in French- “pair-ee.” Yes, that is much more fun!

It was 2011, and I sat with my sons in a movie called Hugo. The movie was set in the early 1930’s in Paris. In one of the scenes, French music was being played in a café. My son turned to me and whispered. “Mom, how do you know the words to this song?” At that point, I hadn't even realized I was singing along.

Shortly thereafter, I saw another movie set in early 19^th century Paris, this time alone.  I sat strangely detached and wide eyed, holding my popcorn and diet coke (neither of which was consumed) as the recognition became stronger. The streetscape was comfortingly familiar; cobblestone roads lit by gas lamps. I had visited this place many times in my dreams—for more years than I could remember.

On the way home that day, I stopped at the grocery store. I recall walking out empty handed, and standing confused in the parking lot. My car….what was it? Where was it? I walked aimlessly through the parking lot, unsure of what I was looking for. I realized I held the key fob in my hand and thought to hit the red button. Across the lot, I heard the horn blaring and the headlights flashing. “The Subaru…” I thought to myself when I saw it. Safely in the car, I made the short drive home, noting to myself that this is why I might be a candidate for a facility in my older years….

That night, my dream state lit up like the fourth of July, and when I awoke, I knew that I wasn't losing it the day before. I had been straddling two realities; a “door” had been cracked open, and within the dream state I was flooded with memories from another lifetime. I played the piano, and very well. I had a small white dog. I was a bit of a socialite, though I wasn't clear on the source of my standing. Was it purely economic or talent?

I found myself there again last night - in Paris - walking along the gas lamp-lit street with a young man. I could see my dress shoes and my skirt with its layered flounce at the bottom, and I laughed flirtatiously while we discussed a story printed in the news.

Unlike the reincarnational story that became Timeless Waters, I have no idea what message, if any, that lifetime in Paris holds for me in my present reality. It is, though, a lovely reminder that each of us is far more than we know, and glimpsing that totality is not only available to us, but our birthright.

What a joyful ride it is!

Many Blessings,

Beyond Positive Thinking

“Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in

             Overalls and looks like work.” – Thomas Edison              

 An interesting thing happened this week. In a multitude of forms, I was hit with the very familiar concept of creating our own realities through our thoughts.

It started when a dear friend of mine who needs some change in her life told me that she watched the movie The Secret. Though I have never seen the movie, I did finally listen to the audio book a few years ago and rather enjoyed it. In fact, if I am heading to work and find myself worried or stressed, I will plug it for a quick “attitude adjustment.” So, clearly I think it is good stuff: visualize what you want your life to be, feel the emotion, use positive affirmations and let the universe know what you want.

Yet, over and over again, through Timeless Waters, lectures, and everyday life, I have talked to people of similar “persuasion” who are frustrated because their lives ultimately stay the same. In truth, sometimes I find myself once again running in my hamster wheel, and the conversation is with my self!  

The reason for this is actually very simple. Visualizing, tapping into the emotion of already having what we desire, and positive affirmations are a great first step. But we still have to do something; identify our hidden barriers, make a change, or take action -- something. All of the “success stories” we hear of people manifesting their dreams? They did manifest their dreams: they visualized what they wanted, felt it, and went after it.

This amazing Universe has multiple opportunities and probabilities on offer for each of us, and we can draw these to ourselves. But only we can turn those opportunities into reality, and that is by doing something, even if it one baby step toward what it is we say we want.

Love and Light,

Sheryl

Changing Seasons

“To everything there is a season.”  So says Ecclesiastes, but I always hear Pete Seeger’s lyrics that became an international hit when sung by the Byrds in 1965, “To everything turn, turn, turn….”

We all have our own seasons. Yet, so often we are not able to honor them. Real life--our jobs, responsibilities and obligations—can dictate our lives for us. Still, we know when our internal seasons are changing; we feel it in every cell of our beings, and if we are not consciously aware, our lives and bodies show us.

A year ago I began to experience a shift in my own internal seasons and was not able to honor them, which was not good for me. After a year of trying to create an opportunity to rectify that (and the long journey it was to get it approved), I have begun my own attempt at honoring my seasons; a two month break. I am calling it a sabbatical of my own making; I have had my season of planting for 25 years, and now it is time to reap. “There is a season, turn, turn, turn…”

            I have goals for this time away from my job: enjoy more relaxed time with my kids, work on projects, write, and just “be” at a slower pace than is my normal life. But I realized Monday that letting go and slowing down is going to be a process; a downshifting. I spent two days completing and finalizing my workbook (a Timeless Waters companion of sorts, helping us better understand the various levels through which we create our own realities). I’ve cleaned out drawers, cleaned carpet, and organized my creative work space. Slowing down yes, but still moving at 90 miles an hour!

            But what I want most out of this time is clarity. I seek the mental space to consider where I have been, what I have accomplished and what I have valued most in my life and endeavors over the past 25 years. What metaphorical drawers of the way I have been living need to be cleaned out? And if I had the chance to consciously fill the drawers of my life with something new, what would that be?

            This may be quite ambitious; particularly for a woman who has only just begun the process of trying to release the knots of life. I also know the kind of clarity I seek may take far more time than I have off.  But I am determined. Determined to establish a life that allows me to honor my seasons, and determined to consciously create more of what fills my “drawers,” my time, my mind, and my heart.

May we all honor our seasons,

Sheryl