Turtle Stepping to the Finish Line

How we do one thing is how we do everything. Take a moment to pause, ponder, and consider this. Are you typically a procrastinator or do you jump straight into the fire? Are you organized to perfection or a chronic case of disarray? Do you primarily listen to your head or does your body have the option of weighing in on decision-making? Do you operate from the learned behavior of others or can you recognize the epiphanies of your own heart? What works for you? How do you operate in the world?

Finish Line Approach

Throughout my life I have been each and all of the above, but as I become more aware of my ways of being I see how the initial statement, How we do one thing is how we do everything, rings true on a relatively consistent basis. Two perfect examples are the writing of my book, As I Lay Pondering, and the half marathon I completed this past weekend. In each case, the spark in my heart said, “Go for it!” and set in motion a journey toward the finish line. In either case, was I prepared? Yes and no. Did I believe I could achieve the goal? Yes and no. Did I keep putting one foot in front of the other no matter how challenging, scary, or disheartening things became? Unequivocally Yes!

Turtle Steps @ Green Lake

Here is where I am reminded of the timeless story of the tortoise and the hare. My essential way of being holds both characters. I typically leap quickly into the race (once the spark ignites) and then pause to notice what I’ve set in motion. If the goal continues to ring true, I turtle step my way through until the finish. On Saturday, I believed I would finish the race even though my training routine was a bit underdone (just like my book writing experience). All along the route, I checked in with my body and noticed when I was able to push forward and how I needed to occasionally hold back. I ran on the downhills when things felt easy and smooth, and I muttered under my breath on the uphills as I systematically put one foot in front of the other. (To author the book, I kept showing up to the page... even when inspiration or completion seemed a long way off).

When I got scared or tired and felt my heart beat with anxiety, I kept the end result in mind. I felt the exhilaration of crossing the finish line (or holding a completed manuscript in my hand). I believed completion was possible. I chose to follow my vision and turned my back on the naysayers (including my internal critic) who said I couldn’t do “it” without proper training. I wasn’t fully prepared in either instance, but I was prepared enough to begin. In the last two miles of the race, I came upon a t-shirt that read “Courage to Start. Faith to Finish.” It was just what I needed to see me through those last paces.

On Saturday, I set out to have fun, hang out with my daughter and sister, and move my body 13.1 miles without serious injury. I wanted to break my record of last year, but mainly I focused on my intention: Have Fun and Finish. I succeeded in both (and I broke my record by 15 minutes.) It happened one step at a time, because I've learned that...

how I do one thing is how I do everything!

Tortoise? Hare? Combo? Other? What’s the “everything” style that works best for you?

Angels in our Midst - Do you believe?

“A Warrior of the Light is never predictable.

She might dance down the street on her way to work, gaze into the eyes of a complete stranger and speak of love at first sight, or defend an apparently absurd idea. Warriors of the Light allow themselves days like these.” – Paulo Coelho

Are you a Warrior of the Light? Someone who’s willing to dream of angels and step into absurd ideas? Well, I am. This morning I awoke thinking of angels and other things that some might call “woo woo.” I opened As I Lay Pondering, saw today’s title, “To Be Known,” and asked myself what it would mean for me to be known right now in this moment. Hmmm.... 

Norah & the Watchers

Do you believe in angels? I do. They come in all shapes and forms—furry, human, dreamlike. Arriving in streams of light, laughing children, and a gentle touch. A stranger who appears and mysteriously vanishes. A fleeting thought, prickly neck or tingly skin. One of my favorite “angels” that shows up in both image and imagination is a curly-headed impish girl named Norah (translated as Compassion). My old golden retriever, Curry, emerges on occasion. And, of course, my purring companion, Aslan, is an everyday reminder of otherworldliness in present form. My long-deceased father has appeared on several occasions through music and nature; meeting me when I most need to hear him. Real or imagined? Truth or fantasy? What do you believe?

Recently a man perusing my ponderings mentioned to his wife that he thought I might be a little crazy. So be it. A warrior of the light dances through the street and people either join in the dance, run the other way, criticize, or pause and ponder. Which do you choose to do?

Curry Dog

There is a place of stillness where everything connects, disappears and comes into absolute clarity all at the same moment. I think of the Bible story of Jacob wrestling with God and his dreams of the ladder going up to heaven while angels ascended and descended. These kinds of stories have been with us since the beginning of time. The question is... Are we willing to believe? What happens when we slow down, step into stillness, and listen... deeply listen? Will God speak? Do angels show up? Is it the result of an overactive imagination or a mind running wild with thoughts and fantasy? Does it matter? Will it be any less real if I can’t hold it in my hand or capture it in a digital photo? Perhaps I am a touch mad, but today my mind returned to a very real experience I had during a meditative time in Arizona this spring.

When I closed my eyes and the meditation began, our moderator simply mentioned the word “stage” and I felt the spotlight shine upon me. I don’t know about you, but I’ve had these longings since I was a little girl. Do we all dream of being on the stage? Yes. No. Perhaps. I believe our “stages” simply take on different forms. [Pause and ponder: what your stage might be? You know, the one you see when you close your eyes.]

Check out that Boa!

Moving down the pathway of my mind, golden-haired Norah greets me with her playfulness and compassion—her is-ness. In her unique way, she invites me to simply be. Before me on the ground lay an apple that I witnessed just before the moderator invited us to look up rather than down. There to my right were grand marble steps leading upward to the stage. A brilliant curtain crafted of magnificent red—the color and texture of my feather boa—reminds me there is nothing insignificant about my essential self. She is meant to shine! (I know this and yet I doubt it in my current mind... not the meditation). Returning to the dream state, I am invited to leave Norah, my guide, at the bottom of the staircase. I don’t want to take my journey without Compassion, but Norah reminds me that she is always with me. All I need do is ask.

Moving up the stairway, I see a being with shoulder-length hair. He glows with strength and light emanating from within. Before I can ask his name, I know it is the Archangel Michael whose card lay “randomly” on my chair before our session began. The Angel turns and points to the audience spread before the stage. It is filled with adoring fans—people asking for my gifts... my gifts... MY gifts. The people do not clamor. They simply stand before Michael’s outstretched hands—before me—and wait. They snake around my viewpoint—like the final scene in “Pay It Forward”—holding lights and waiting. They are honoring me and know I have the gift to share with them. I am awed and honored myself. Michael is brilliant before me and he is part of me. Strength and courage. Like Norah, he will always be with me, but especially during this time of the journey he is very near.

I sense him over my left shoulder now. His golden wings gently wrapping around me as I write with my golden muse, Aslan, purring in my lap. “Be you, my child. The world is waiting.” I feel it now and I heard it then as he turned back to me and said, “The gift is you.” And in his hands lay my gift to the world.

In that brief moment, I smelled the apples I had seen earlier. The fruit of life. Tempting and forbidden. Hmmm. Fear creeps in. I was always forbidden to shine. Forbidden to taste the fruit of my own knowledge. But here, the sweet fruit has been broken open before me. I need only inhale—stop, pause, breathe—and it will find me, surround me, and fill me with its fragrant aroma. May this fragrance move me into the world with strength and tenderness; compassion and love; Michael and Norah. There is no room for fear when all is love.

Truth or fantasy? Real or imagined? Sane or inept? What do you choose to believe? Where does your mind go when you turn to that deep place of stillness where everything connects, disappears, and becomes clear in the same moment?

On Turning Thirteen...

“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves.” Rainer Maria Rilke

Inspired by a friend’s request to share my words of wisdom to her soon-to-be 13-year-old daughter, I decided to share a slightly expanded version of my letter here. As I began to write to my young friend, I realized that the message I would have wanted at her age was the same one I need to hear today. Learn to Trust Yourself.

Me @ 13

While I can’t remember exactly what it’s like to stand on the threshold of turning 13, I do recall it as a time of exhilaration and uncertainty with lots of questions. I remember being too afraid to ask the questions for fear of looking dumb. I’d like to say I was filled with curiosity about who I would become in the world and what great things I was capable of doing. I’d also like to tell you that I was brave and didn’t worry about what everybody else was doing... But, in reality, I was more concerned about how my hair looked and whether or not I’d blend in with the rest of the kids my age. [Hmmm... Thirteen or not, how might this still resonate today?]

What do I wish I had known at 13? As I said earlier, it’s the wisdom that grounds and motivates me today: Learning to Trust Myself! I grew up thinking everyone else had the answers to all my questions. But how could they when they were my questions and we each are prone to see things differently? Only I can decide what I like and what feels right for me [and the same goes for you]. It’s kind of like sharing clothes with other people. We come in all shapes, sizes, likes and dislikes, so it’s important to try on different things to see what makes us sparkle. That’s how we learn to trust ourselves. [If you are still learning to do this at your age (I know I am), then read on...]

Ask lots of questions, don’t be afraid to stand out, and explore boatloads of things to see what makes you a trustworthy You. Taste new foods. Listen to different music. Watch movies that none of your friends have seen. Learn a language. Travel to an unexplored destination. Revamp your wardrobe. Throw out what doesn’t fit. Keep what you love. Be curious and don’t be afraid if you don’t know the answers (even if the questions are Who am I or What do I like?) Keep asking and exploring.

My hunch is that you already have a pretty strong sense of who you are and what you like [although it might need a little refreshing], so Trust Yourself and you’ll never go wrong... And if things get confusing or you feel a little lost that’s okay, too. Blend in if you need to. Stand out when that feels good. Ask for help when you don’t know the way. Keep trying things on as you learn to trust and refine your perfect self! And if it helps... you can always pretend you’re standing on the threshold of adolescence.

Ponder this: What words of wisdom would you offer to a 13-year-old?

10 Lessons Learned (& Affirmed) While Living Life

Hello, Love. I know I’ve been away for a while and I always miss you when I’m gone. Today, I’ve been reflecting on where I’ve been these past few weeks and what I learned (& affirmed) along the way. What bubbled up were 10 Lessons that I'd love to share with you.

Since we were last together here, I followed my heart’s calling and sailed high above the Arizona desert, experiencing the peaceful wordlessness of a sunrise hot air balloon ride. There I released floating dreams on behalf of myself and others (you, perhaps?) while sharing in the majestic silence with old and new friends. It was an experience potentially missed if a sprout of fearful discomfort had become overgrown. I’ve discovered the importance of learning to differentiate between fear and exhilaration. Fear holds us back. Exhilaration lifts us higher. When your heart sings YES, you can trust it’s moving in the right direction... even when it seems a little scary. Lesson #1 – Follow your heart.

Following the early morning balloon ride, 300+ of my cohorts gathered in Phoenix where I was able to explore the beauty and dissonance of life together as one big family. While we are all profoundly connected in unnamable ways, we don’t necessarily click with every person in the room (kind of like a real family). Expectations aren’t always met and sometimes they are exceeded when connection greets us in the most unexpected places and ways. Lesson # 2 – Be open to whatever shows up.

A highlight of the time in Phoenix was when my alter ego, “Sassy Girl,” sashayed onto the scene and whooped it up with fellow Sassy Cats during an evening of Cabaret. Our giggles and laughter resounded like a babbling brook after a refreshing spring downpour. Even “grown ups” have an amazing capacity and desire to pull out the over-the-top duds and play dress-up. Lesson # 3 – Put on your sassy and play, play, play!

Upon returning home, I hunkered down and added the final touches to my recent workshop, Exploring Archetypal Energies through the Expressive Arts. Simultaneously, I made space for some additional playtime with out-of-town guests and my sweet hubby as we became tourists in our own town. Lesson #4 – Make essential space for connecting with friends and loved ones, the rest will follow. (Refer to Lesson #1.)

Ready or not, off I went to St. Andrew’s House on the Hood Canal for a magical time of retreat and awakening. Surrounded by 10 amazing women and my fabulous co-facilitator, Christine, I was reminded of Lesson #5 - We are all teachers and there are lessons to be learned in everything. The bonus of being a group facilitator is that I am blessed with learning from the wisdom of other’s life explorations. During our retreat together, we danced, created art, read poetry, got quiet, and dug deep. The mountains peeked through the mist and the sun made a guest appearance as we walked the labyrinth. The moon did her dance alongside 10 royal queens who proudly stepped into their personal sovereignty.

My re-entry time has included snuggle time with golden kitty, Aslan, a delicious massage, fine wine and the darkest of delectable chocolates. I am, after all, a widely-proclaimed, self-care practitioner. Lesson/Affirmation #6 – Self-care is the best way to restore, rejuvenate and prepare to offer our gifts back out to the world!

And lest one might think that life is always easy and full of light, Lesson #7 arrives: Re-entry can be challenging! Somehow, I often manage to get blind-sided by that one! With all of these glorious adventures and soul nourishment, I was a bit annoyed to find myself overwhelmed and uptight as I looked at my week ahead... not to mention the Big Question: “What’s next for me?”

Lesson #8 – 'What’s next?' takes us out of the present and into the future. The question What's next? has a powerful ability to pop me into high alert mode if I’m not careful. If it’s too far in the future, What’s next? sends me spinning like a top (and I don’t mean the fun, colorful kind.) So, when the spin feels out-of-control, it’s time to pause and get off. (Easier said than done, I know.) Fortunately, Lesson #9 is available. Have a previously assembled tool box nearby at all times and use it! and remember this...

Lesson #10 – Sometimes it takes a full arsenal to pry yourself out of the spinning top, but with time, the spinning will stop!


This time my tools included...
1) Getting quiet... although today the noise increased.
2) Get something done (anything)... alas, confronting my to-do list raised the anxiety.
3) Distract myself... choose your distractions carefully – email and Facebook kept me spinning this go 'round.
4) Bring presence to someone else... helping someone else feel good feels really great! (However, please keep in mind Lesson #6 re: self-care.)
5) Name my stuff... “I’m overwhelmed and out of control” (even saying it begins to slow the spin.)
6) Take a walk (Move!)... feeling the ground beneath my feet is... well... grounding.
7) Witness the beauty everywhere... notice the sun on my face, blooming daffodils, a curious chickadee, warm java, a neighbor’s smile. Ahhhh.
8) Come back to the basics... Breathe.
9) Write and reflect... (This is my favorite ritual... What’s yours?)
10) Share your ritual with someone... Today I'm sharing with you, Love. Yes, You!

So that’s where I’ve been and a few things I’ve learned in the last weeks. How about you? I’d love to know where you go when the world spins out of control. What are your favorite life lessons? Do share, pretty please. A person can never have too many tools!

Mary Oliver's Inspiration

“Oh, to love what is lovely, and will not last!

What a task

to ask

of anything, or anyone...”

Mary Oliver excerpt from Snow Geese

It was an iconic moment that didn’t register on any paparazzi’s meter. But, I was there to record it in my memory. Less than five feet from where I sat poised to hear an inspirational talk, my curiosity and awe were tuned to high gear as I witnessed my two favorite poets in the entire world—Mary Oliver and David Whyte—meet for the first time. Surreal and amazing I watched the creator of Why I Wake Early nod and clasp hands with the author of What to Remember When Waking. It was a dreamlike moment and I invited myself to pause and consider if indeed I might still be sleeping.

Mary Oliver arrived as keynote guest for Seattle University’s Search for Meaning book festival. The jam-packed audience had high expectations for her appearance... certain that she would entertain and enlighten us with her sage wisdom and poetic words. She would inspire. We would connect. Oh, I pause and shake my head when I read those words of “expectation.” They are always a set up for disappointment. We put our heroes on a mountaintop and then dare them to reach the trembling heights. It is a daunting task.

Several weeks earlier, I spent an entire day mesmerized by the charisma and talent of David Whyte and for some comical reason I expected the same level of engagement from Mary Oliver. How audacious of me to make such a comparison! While she is a Pulitzer prize winner and world-renowned author, she is nonetheless a private woman who prefers spending hours in the woods scratching notes out with a pencil over sitting at her typewriter composing or reading to a room full of adoring fans. David Whyte thrives on sharing with corporate environments and regaling his audiences with hair-raising tales and adventures with the late John O’Donohue. He recites poetry (his and others) from memory in multiple languages with ne’er a note nearby.

Ms. Oliver offers deadpan humor and acquires a twinkle in her voice when she speaks of her departed and beloved dog, Percy. She is humble and mumbles to herself while shuffling through misnumbered pages to read her poetry rather than recite it. Her poems are wondrous and she delivered them to us one after another without pause. I found myself wanting more... perhaps a result of left-over comparisons to Whyte who offers the gift of verse repetition which allows his words to sink in and meld deeply into our bones. Mary unceremoniously tossed them into the air and swiftly moved onto the next as if the previous was of slight significance. She left us hanging and desiring more.

What did I expect or want? I wanted to be immersed in her words and presence. She offered the words and in the literal sense she was present. Was it my own demanding thoughts that left me wanting more? The practice of Buddhism invites us to consider whether our motives are pure as we encounter others and also to want what we get. As I ponder that day’s encounter and my potential disappointment that my hero didn’t quite reach my mountaintop as she shuffled from poem to poem, I realize my motive in observing her wasn’t pure. It was for me and my entertainment. In this way of being, I threatened to miss what was lovely. And as I consider the second premise—to want what we get—I find myself applauding for the humbly, mumbly award-winning woman. Did she inspire? Absolutely! Was it entertaining? No doubt! Her way was just not the way I expected. She delivered something even better—a lasting impression that gave me volumes to ponder... much like her poetry. Who could ask for anything more? Well done, Ms. O and Thank You for being you! You inspire us each to do the same.

sunrise on Mt. Sinai © KSH 2010

Caught in the Headlights

I wrote a book. Those words are enough to make me pause like a deer trapped in the headlights. My pulse starts to accelerate and I wonder if I should flee or allow myself to dance in the high beam... or maybe it's "on" the high beam, because it definitely feels precarious where I reside these days. I wrote a book... actually, I carved open a 500-page space in the center of my chest and invited the world to peek in. Here's my heart, everyone. Please be kind.

I've recently joked that I need to add Dramamine to my daily regimen, as the highs and lows attempt to swing me through my days... and then I pause and read a line or two of my own words—Let go and release... There are no ordinary moments... Recall what we already know within—and I feel myself returning to the center of my truth.

I've spent the last 3 days packing, blessing, and shipping packages of signed books to over a dozen states within the U.S. and several countries around the world. Early readers have begun sharing their moments of connection and serendipity with me. This morning a friend elaborated on how her young daughter has been using my poem, Aslan's Gift, to help her release anxiety before she falls asleep each evening. My friend had tears in her eyes as she thanked me for pushing through to publish the book, so her daughter could find this comfort. Others have written how they love "having coffee" with me in the morning (even though we're miles apart). My heart sings as I hear these stories. It makes it worth opening up the tender place in the center of my chest.

As I Lay Pondering started writing itself before I knew what form it would take. My hunch is it will continue to take on its own life as it wings its way around the world. The big question I hear most often is What now? Who knows? All I can say for sure in this moment is I wrote a book. It's up to the Universe—God, Spirit, the Unknown—to say what's next!

My hope is that everyone who will benefit or be touched by my prose will have an opportunity to do so. Perhaps it will only be my coffee buddies, Aslan's snuggle bunny, and me... perhaps you or someone you love. Who knows?

What is the act that makes you pause in the headlights while simultaneously causing your heart to sing? Find it. Do it. The Universe will applaud. I promise.

As I Lay Pondering: daily invitations to live a transformed life by Kayce S. Hughlett. Available here and at Amazon.com.

Aslan © KSH

For too many days...

For too many days I have not written of what stirs my soul. I have not confessed to the simple pleasures that make up my days. Things like… The soft fur of my golden cat as he greets me with his purring ballet. Sweet whispers and the tender touch of my beloved. Crisp winter air on my skin as daylight meets dark. Luminaries surrounding the lake. Laughter of friends mixed with the jingle of Christmas bells and off-key carols. Twinkling lights amidst the smell of freshly cut evergreen. Gastronomical delights like chicken and waffles turned into art and fat luscious noodles from Tommy’s kitchen. My daughter sleeping safely in her bed. The joy of my sister as she creates her art. Magic and mystery. Music. Dance. Delight.

For too many days now I have not written of what darkens my heart. Frigid rain that persists and chills me to the core. An empty space beside me. Silent friendships and those gone stale. My child in a cold stone cell. Unanswered messages. Aimless thoughts. Hunger and starvation. Loneliness and longing.

For too many days now I haven’t written of Hope, the candle that leads my way – not like birthday flames on a resplendent cake, but rather the single shimmer in the darkest night. Hope in the midst of sorrow. Hope that stirs the pot of joy buried deep within my belly. Hope that gets me out of bed on the gloomiest days, and Hope that leads me like a floodlight on stage when I follow my true passion.

For too many days I have not written of this season that stirs my soul in a multitude of ways. This season of darkness. This season of Hope. In this glorious season may we each reach for peace within and goodwill toward all. May our souls be stirred with delight alongside the acknowledgement of darkness. May we come to know that Hope abides in all who choose to truly live.

For too many days I have not… How might you respond?

photo © KSH - Santa Fe Tree

Dilemma: Is authenticity book suicide?

I ponder. I play. I muse. I write to discover what I know.

It’s always been a whole lot easier to write about life unedited in the privacy of my journal than put it out for all the world to see (and scrutinize). It’s considerably easier to let my pen flow unabashedly and discover what surprises, delights or terrifies me on the safe lines of my composition notebook than to share it in a public forum. Somewhere along the way, however (probably in said journal), the idea of a blog and ultimately a book began to emerge. Since then I’ve often battled the tricky space between writing to discover what I know and writing what I think, you, the reader might want to hear.

It’s a crazy balance, because when I get caught up in You, I lose Me. The wild thing is that experience has shown what my faithful readers seem to love most is the unedited, messy, transparent and authentic Me. The pieces that have landed home most often are not the carefully crafted, publisher-worthy submissions, but rather the scrawled and messy gems straight from my morning pages. So, what's a girl to do?

The performance pressure is mounting, since I’m in the final (sort of) publishing stages of my book (working title: Ponderings) and the promotion has begun (kind of.) My social self says that everything – every word, comma, spelling error, hairstyle, breakfast menu, social agenda, perfect turn of a phrase and more – is a commentary (pro or con) on this book. Please say it ain’t so…

If true, this poses quite the dilemma, because at this point I absolutely cannot stop myself from writing and this blog has always been the raw version of greater things to come. My inner being still yearns to toss these unedited, heart-inspired missiles out into the stratosphere to see where they may land. As I was journaling this morning, I remembered the lifeline and savior that writing has been for me. Putting my words onto paper and out into the world is the essential breath for living my authentic life.

Some will say that continuing to write in this way is book suicide. So be it. Others may say it’s brilliant and that’s why they’ll buy my published words. Fabulous. Bottom line, I will continue to do things my way which is the only way I know how to do it. As far as I can tell, it’s working for ME.

I ponder. I play. I muse. I write to discover what I know.

Pondering... 30 in 30 - Day 22

As I let go of expectations, I am able to do everything "perfectly" in order to learn exactly what I need to learn today. -- KSH



Diamonds in the Soul - helping high-functioning, under-living people recover and nourish personal delight & joy in life.

Pondering... 30 in 30 - Day 10

What lies below us? And what is above? - Christa G.

When I was a little girl, I envisioned splendid images of God and his kingdom in the sky. I believed that if I squinted through my eyelashes and pretended I wasn’t looking that I could catch a glimpse of him floating by on a cloud, surrounded by white-winged angels. I would lie for hours in the fresh summer grass, staring up into the sky until I could feel the slow turning of the earth beneath me. In my child’s mind, I never quite caught that vivid peek of God, but as an adult I realize those were the moments a Higher Power was most fully present to me. In that dreamlike state where waking and sleep merge, when vision blurs and yet becomes crystal clear. The place of being held by the earth, gazing longingly into the sky and being completely content for timeless hours.

Without nearly as much conviction as believing I could catch God through the window of my eyelashes was the notion that somewhere beneath my feet lay a fiery pit tended by a man with red horns, pitched fork and tail. I also imagined that if I dug a hole through the center of the earth, I would end up in China. Much more time was spent fantasizing about the delight and joy of ending up in a faraway little girl’s backyard than worrying about falling into a fiery pit. How could the same earth, soil and grass that cradled my cloud-watching self, also cover such a nasty place in the midst of the earth? I preferred to think of the magical tunnel that connected me to my foreign soul mate.

As an adult, my heart returns to cloud watching and earth pondering. What does lie below? My heart believes it offers a place to be grounded and held. We can be cradled and nurtured in love or we can be captive to fear with worries about what waits to pull us down. And above? Both adult and child know that is the space filled with infinite possibility. The dreamlike state where waking and sleep merge, when vision blurs and yet becomes crystal clear. The place where the most lovely of all things are made manifest.

photo © h3images

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Pondering... 30 in 30 - Day 3

"Retreat - to withdraw, retire or draw back, especially for shelter or seclusion." (a verb)

The lexicon of our modern day insists that one must leave home, go away, and/or spend lots of money to officially be on retreat. This is bothersome to me, because what happens to people with no accrued vacation time or resources to afford an expensive spa? Methinks, it's time to change our thinking. In my book, daily life is totally accessible as an ongoing retreat center. It's a place where at any moment in time we have the ability to take a pause and seek shelter from our thoughts, or seclusion from our surroundings. If we can change our thinking, we can change our mood. If we can allow ourselves to withdraw from narrow definitions and expand our notion of "retreat", life becomes a playground.

In this current moment, I sit at my neighborhood cafe and take a break from writing at home. As the pull of distractions, like laundry and internet, became too great, I chose to create a new space of shelter, seclusion and inspiration. The smell of espresso now fills my nostrils as a fresh breeze floats through the open windows. Smooth jazz music and the soft patter of gentle conversation soothes my clanging thoughts. Local artwork flanks my sides as the soft leather chair cushions my body. I begin to imagine the laughter that will come this evening and it makes me smile right now. Pausing, I take in all that surrounds me and gratefully declare, "Here and now, I am on retreat."

Mabel Dodge Luhan skyline © ksh 2011

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Love Letter to a Season

Dear Summer:

I love you with your unique pace and rhythm. I feel blessed and fortunate to be able to make choices that allow me to feel the spaciousness of your season. I like cutting back on regular routines and creating new adventures. It's like designing my own version of camp. I truly do feel like a kid on holiday exploring all sorts of new adventures. Studying French and ballet. Completing a 1/2 marathon with my some of my favorite peeps. Having friends and family come to visit. Lazier morning schedules. Summer, you offer incredible long days where I hold off putting on my pj's until almost 9:30 p.m. or you leisurely invite me to stay in them all day. The hours are filled with kitty-snuggling and beach strolling. Reading to my heart's content.

You know you've always been my favorite season and I'm really a kid at heart who loves the simple pleasures. Dreaming isn't about doing the next "big" thing - although it definitely could be. Last week my heart's desire popped out that I want to live in France. Now how would I even know that? I've spent eight days in Paris. Period. And I'm not sure Paris is where I'd even choose to live, but it's fun to have a fabulous dream. It doesn't mean I won't be happy unless or until I get there. It's actually plenty fun to live right now, because truly I have all I need.

So what do I do with ma fantasie de la Francaise? Well... I pull out my drive time French CD's. I buy baguette and cheese for dinner. I practice ordering cafe au lait en francais and I listen to lots of French pop music. Why? Because it makes me happy and brings me pleasure and delight. It speaks the language of summer. Does that mean I'm living in a fantasy world? Mais non! After all, that's what kids do in the summer time - especially if their parents don't overload them with activities designed to "get ahead" in the world. We've lost the art of doing nothing. I firmly believe it should be a part of everyone's day in every season! Summer, thank you for reminding me this is the natural order of life. When I do the little things that bring me joy (like taking French & ballet, "just because") it makes me feel so incredibly happy that those around me can't help but feel good too! It's like warm sun spreading across the sky after a long gray winter. Joy is contagious!

If teacher asked me to write what I did on my summer vacation, here are a few of the top adventures I'd share. French Kissing Life with Tonya Leigh; Martha's magical training tour; reading teen novels; climbing rock walls; having minor surgery and getting a "bad ass" scar (my daughter's interpretation). Cutting back on weekly hours, developing a rockin' new curriculum; planning a fabulous retreat; hanging out with friends; visiting the Olympic peninsula and my grownup son; eating lots of frozen yogurt with my employed daughter; sitting in the sunshine reading Tao te Ching while my beloved takes amazing photographs; ferry and convertible rides; deep contemplative practice and extensive examination of the back of my eye lids; siestas after lunches of fresh-grilled veggies; making delicious food just because; planning fantasy dinner parties that one day will happen; signing up for Fall adventures that make me quake with excitement and just a tinge of fear; discovering green smoothies; going Vegan for a few days; dreaming and dancing; living and loving life. Rest and respite.

Summer, what can I say? Merci, beaucoups. Je t'aime!

Diamonds in the Soul - helping high-functioning, under-living people uncover & maintain personal delight & joy in life.

A Simple Sunday Post

Freedom, pleasure and ritual. What are mine? Stretching before I arise. Steaming hot coffee, fresh in the moment. A burning candle to awaken my senses. Music for ears and soul. Gentle pleasures. A desire to live in France or at least embrace the joie de vivre. To not fear dying. To not fear living. Awakening to everything. Pleasure. Desire. Wellness. Fear.

Freedom to speak my mind and share my magic. To spread my arms and soar like an eagle or the graceful pelican along the Sonoran sea. Pleasure to walk on the beach and feel the sand between my toes. To climb a rock wall and feel the strength of my body. To witness the lean and toned muscles in my arms that share the same body with crepe paper thighs. To knowingly love the signs and tokens of where I’ve been and who I am.

What brings you freedom and pleasure? What is the ritual that awakens your senses?

lucy's climb © 6.2011

Be Curious

“As I started looking, I found more and more.” -- Valerie Steele

On a breezy evening that threatened rain, but offered amazing cloud formations and lighting, I attended my daughter’s graduation from high school. A monumental event for all, and one that arrived more quickly than a parent could possibly imagine. We braced ourselves for a potentially boring evening as nearly 400 graduates streamed into the stadium, paired off boy-girl boy-girl. The evening, however, flowed seamlessly as the class president opened with a simple statement, “Good job. We did it.” - followed by talented choral groups ranging from high brow classical to street rap.

The most lackluster speech of the evening was the one meant to inspire. The adult speaker literally said, “I’m going to inspire you” and then began to read a list of former graduates (mainly from the ‘50’s and earlier) who had “made it big.” I recognized one name of an actress I adored during the ‘80’s and my husband identified a real estate mogul who he’d had less than pleasant business dealings with. The delivery was dry and as my own eyes glazed over, I couldn’t imagine my daughter or many other students being inspired by this recitation.

Looking out over the stadium, I was struck by the style and creativity of the students on the field. I witnessed mortarboards decorated with glitter and sequins glistening in the evening light. Students with oversized sunglasses; a boy with Mickey Mouse ears cleverly attached to his graduation cap. An array of finery peeking beneath red and black gowns: rubber sandals, glittering high heels, blown out blue jeans and pressed tuxedos. I watched the crowd: proud parents, raucous friends, and people holding elaborate signs, flowers from street vendors, cameras, bull horns and video recorders. In my musing, I became curious about who these people were, where they had been and where the future might carry them.

With curiosity the night came alive. Why did the seagulls soar over the crowd in the intricate patterns of swoop and dive? Who created the formation of night clouds and evening light that added a glow of perfection to the evening? Flashes of history went through my mind (good, bad and indifferent) as names were called to receive diplomas. Children I’d known since they were four years old strolled across the stage as the next generation of leaders. Later, I would pray for their safety and protection as they departed for Senior Spree, private parties and celebrations with family and friends. I wondered where time had gone, opportunities missed and adventures to come.

In my mind, the “inspirational speaker” had missed the mark. While a list of former accomplishments might or might not encourage others to move forward, curiosity could be a lasting companion. Curiosity inspires. It is my friend daily as I wonder about the world and myself. It motivates me to move forward and calls into question (without judgment) why I might stay inert. It encourages me to ask questions and seek new horizons. If I could leave a legacy for the generations to come, it would be this: Be Curious. Be grateful. Be you.

Ponder this: How are you inspired? What would be your legacy for those to follow?

photo by mark karras (used with permission... since he didn't get a model release and janey is featured :)

Labyrinth of Life

I’ve been away from this page too long, so today I invite you on a literal and metaphorical journey through the labyrinth of my life. This past month I have stepped through many doors, beginning with a weekend I spent with my grad school buddies. Together, we have been through thick and thin. We’ve discovered our mothers, hated them, loved them and become mothers ourselves. We have filled and emptied our nests. Buried our parents. We’ve become grandmothers, new moms and orphans. We’ve laughed hysterically, wept relentlessly and grown beyond our narrow boundaries. Our hearts have been like melting chocolate, swirling and fading in steaming milk. Comfort brings us home.

This month I have relived the birth of my son and his life of disarray. What can I even say? I’ve held him in my arms and he in mine, and so the journey goes… There is green, new life and growth. The touch of a hand. Swirling life around the edges. The roots of messiness piercing the whimsy of freedom, brilliance and light. I can feel it as I spin around the side. A new song, starry night, candles in the wind and paper umbrellas in a magical sky. (Phoenix remembered). Stripes of brilliance and color smash up against the gray of despair. Grief is always near. The cup of celebration teases me and then disappears as I round the corner to more light and celebration.

Petals of white greet me before being pierced by the messiness of more necessary growth. My hands hold it all as witness to the brokenness and darkness that is both parenthood and childhood. The path continues. I cannot stop now. Will I open or close my eyes to despair? I choose to feel the life that comes from releasing emotion. Light and dark blur together until I can’t tell which is which, and still life dances around the edges and angels offer me the cup of salvation as the center reveals it all – light, shadow & life. The embers glow and beckon me to continue the journey.

Golden light leads the way out. Fresh pink and spring green remind me that roots are essential and seeds grow into strong trees. (A sister. A friend.) Closed eyes offer prayer and meditation as they touch the heart within. (A workshop.) The shadows hold new life and there is nourishment in the messiness. Roots point the way to sweet nectar. (A prom & more.) Celebrate. Celebrate where you’ve been – the darkness – the brilliance – the new song of swirling life. Take in the colors and shapes that are this life. Hold them all. Celebrate birth and death. They all lie within your beautiful perfect heart. Amen.

labyrinth collage - designed & created by KSH 6.2011

My Friend, Acedia

Oh my, I’ve had quite a few days. After reading Christine’s reflection early in the week, I realized I’ve been caught up in a bout of acedia (i.e. lack of desire or initiative.) Rather than sinking into it or being curious, I grumbled and complained about not feeling good or getting anything done. This managed to only feed the overall sense of blah and keep me from (surprise surprise) feeling good or getting anything done.

This morning something began to shift as I decided to have a conversation with my companion. It went something like this:

Me: Hello, Acedia. What do you have to teach me?
Acedia: Patience, faith and the ability to sit in discomfort.
Me: Oh. But, I like things to happen quickly. I am a fearless warrior. I like to step in and heal things – quickly. (Oh geez, I sound arrogant. Somehow thinking I’m magical and believing I’m in control. My Ego is operating on high. )

Me: Hello, Acedia. What else have you got?
Acedia: I’m here to humble you. To let you taste that place of despair.
Me: Yuk, and?
Acedia: You haven’t been there in awhile, but you are not immune. All your tricks and magic won’t keep you from feeling pain and despair. It’s time to make peace with me and stop battling. Do you not see the risk? The more you battle, the stronger my hold becomes.
Me: Hmmm. Very interesting.

Then Acedia and I had a little conversation about the should’s. Beginning with the thought of “I should know better”. Having done tons of therapy, practicing as a therapist/life coach/spiritual director and overall being a pretty grounded and solid person, I have somehow convinced myself I shouldn't have bad days or make mistakes. (How realistic is that?!?!?). Thinking the thought of “I should know better”, I felt the weight of responsibility and the amount of EGO attached to it. It leaves me trying to do other people’s work for them AND messing around in God's business. It takes me totally away from the business of caring for myself. When I let go of the thought, "I should know better", I burst out laughing as I realized what a total mind-game that is... Geez Louise.

Using Byron Katie's technique of the Turnaround, my thought shifted something like this, and with it, the acedia lifted:

I shouldn't know better... Whew! I can only know what I know.

I do know better... I have everything I need and I can see it when I get out of my own way.

God knows best... I'm part of the Universe (God) and it takes all parts - the space - the light - the dark - the "mistakes" – the acedia – the fearlessness – the glory - ALL of it – to create a whole human being.

It appears I need to keep learning these lessons over and over again. Ain’t life grand?

Shedding My Should's - or - the Albatross and the Lizard

Recently I’ve been intrigued by a friend’s interaction with her purse. Yes, her purse. She has referred to it as an albatross around her neck and has been in the process of cleaning out this “heavy” bag. As a curious companion, I couldn't resist posing these questions to her:

Why wouldn't you eliminate something that is heavy and helps bring on migraines (impairs your health)?

How would it feel to go about your business unencumbered?

Why do you keep schlepping it around?

What do you gain by holding onto this heavy "albatross"?

Since my curiosity often peaks when something inside me is stirring, it was no surprise that today's Abbey of the Arts Lenten reflection prompted me to look in the mirror and ask myself basically the same questions I had just offered my friend.

What do I schlep around that encumbers my journey? What can I relinquish today?

Answer: I want to shed my should’s. They are my “albatross” and feel oh so very heavy. Through journaling and self-reflection, I ended up exploring today’s should which sounds something like: I should take care of myself. Is this true? Absolutely! Taking care of ourselves is a great thing to which I’m wholeheartedly dedicated. So what's the problem? Regarding my personal response to self-care, I’ve discovered an interesting space where I balance precariously between finding true rest and moving into a restless or paralyzing, non-productive state. This seems a direct result of the resistance I feel when I hear the word SHOULD.

My tricky lizard (the part of our brains that thrives on fear) somehow can convince me that doing something "restful", like watching two or three episodes of Brothers & Sisters (instead of reading or sleeping) will leave me refreshed. By staying up late, however, I end up exhausted and with nothing to show for it. On the other hand, I resist a push-push-push mentality and the “should” factor of always being "productive". Nonetheless, I know I’m much happier when I’ve done some writing, cleaned a closet, gone for a walk or intentionally snuggled with Aslan. My sneaky lizard, however, can pull me away from the things I love in the name of self-care and what I should (or should not) be doing. Oh, tricky tricky lizard!

When I play with the statement: I should take care of myself, it feels heavy like an obligation (or an albatross). Should’s are extremely weighty!! Should’s take away the gift and joy of simply doing and being. When I entertain the place of should (e.g. I should be taking care of others; should be working; should be eating cardboard diet food instead of delicious chocolate), I get caught up in fear (lizard brain) which for me ultimately leads to resentment. I begin to lose my presence and joy with others, resist my work, and punish my body for holding me hostage.

I know that shedding the should’s leads to greater joy and balance in life. It’s something I experience on a regular basis. Now, if I can just convince that sneaky lizard to leave me alone perhaps I can enjoy this present moment. Perchance the albatross and lizard should make a play date? Hmmmm.

Today, I want to relinquish my should’s. Care to join me? I’d love to hear what should’s keep you feeling heavy and encumbered. What albatross is hanging around your neck? What is your lizard whispering in your ear?

© port orchard heron; aslan doing what he does best