Month: April 2019

In the morning quiet, there is an ebb and flow of thoughts and feelings. The incense stick fragrance comforts but also tells me time is running out. The sense of urgency to DO rather than BE so overwhelming that it suffocates, and yet I still force myself to sit. To be. To take it in, to slow the mind down, to not go on to the next thing, to not become so task focused that I lose sight of my vision. Yet there is also an undercurrent of sadness and grief that I dare not expose. Acknowledging that pain feels dangerous like I am naked, and no protection,

The morning quiet looms, and flashes of so much to do races through my mind, but I wonder what’s the point of checking off one more to do item. What is the point? The mind continues to race past the station of awareness. Stopping at the pain not an option. Diving into the sadness and loneliness feels like self-pity. And so I watch the incense burn away just like dawn, and light comes into the room, hiding my pain.

The hands tremble as I write the Morning Pages, and I try to envision my Artist Date, and it feels as if I am stuck in a life of pretense and pretend that all is well while the mind and heart swirl in indecision, and fear of failure.  Each moment, a struggle to understand this moment in my life, how i get here. Then the morning light hits, the darkness recedes from the house, and as the room brightens so do my thoughts and feelings.

The house fills with small noises, the dog jumping off the bed, her paws clicking on the hardwood floors. In the distance, the garbage trucks beeps as it picks up cans. Muffled chirps from birds. All seems right, yet the mind churns and churns. The deep pain streams inside, but for the moment, the  morning quiet brings a quietness inside, and another day starts. I sit there, taking it all in, then a deep breath and begin another 24 hours.

It’s easy to show images of happiness. Easy to show connection on social media and amongst others, but what happens behind the door when it’s just the two of you?  Relationships are hard when each of us have our own version of what life is supposed to be like. This past week I saw many couples who are sitting across each on their phones, lost in another world.

I watched people walking the streets, scrolling away on the phone. Our lives are becoming filtered through our smart phones and I wonder what effect that has on our relationships. We no longer are bored or allowing ourself to just feel.And so I put the phone down and look around, and what I see scares me. When did life become about presenting the best version of ourselves rather than the actual messy thing it is? What will happen to connections when it’s easier to text each other rather than pick up the phone and talk about tough things.

And then I think that happiness is what we want to feel, and we can create it and it doesn’t rely on others but phones make it seem otherwise. And so I see all this happiness and I wonder if I am happy with what’s in my life. It’s not easy to process because it is so much easier to avoid and deny, but then I realize I am not  doing myself any favors. I sit here, and breathe in the life around me. And I think about what happiness means to me. It is living my vision, my purpose, to feel connected, be vulnerable and be authentic.

It is not easy, and it’s what makes happiness so elusive. And so I continue on this path of not knowing what happiness really means, but I also know that it means to be true to myself. Just some random thought I thought I’d share which, of course, many of us will read on a phone. Go figure.

Happy Monday

This past weekend, I attended a workshop called Samurai Game. A dear friend enrolled me into it by explaining it would be great to do it together. I initially resisted as I have so much on my plate, and to be quite honest, my attitude was I am good. I don’t need any more transformational training. But I had committed to us doing something together and so I agreed. I did not look into the workshop nor did I want to know what it was about. My goal was to be present, and really just be with my friends.

And yet, I am back this week feeling rejuvenated, and pleased and angry and frustrated and grateful for the experience. Over and over, I go over things and how I could have been different.  And yet when I truly think about it, the workshop was a reflection of where I am in my life. It was a perfect mirror of how I show up, and although some parts discouraged me, I knew I had come a ways. And that meant progress, success, being on right path. It reminded me of what I need to continue to work on, the weaknesses, and the areas that still need improvement. The old me would see that as failure, but now I recognize it as part of my journey.

Samurai Game taught me who I am as a leader, and the path I need to go on. It also forced me to accept the consequences when I failed to be a true Samurai. I highly recommend it to anyone!