Posts Tagged ‘Notice’
Change Is My New Frequency
Monday, December 5th, 2022
For years, daily routines have been my habit. This month, change is my new frequency. I am changing jobs, changing where I live, and changing how I spend my time. After living in the Northeast my whole life, I recently decided to move to Florida. And after spending my whole career in the not-for-profit arena, I am now focusing more on my coaching, meditation, and writing business practices. I also took time off to create space for these big life changes. I would love to say this was for a purposeful sabbatical, but in reality, it was more of a necessity for a move that included packed boxes, a car getting shipped, and time to set-up our condo.
All of these changes reminded me of my radio growing up where you had to get the station just right so there wouldn’t be any static. I would roll the dial slowly to try to get a station in tune. It was a feat to get a radio frequency that did not have any static. Often, when I did find the station, I would just leave it on the one I found so I wouldn’t have to get any more static–even if I didn’t like the music. Changing the dial meant moving through the static.
I noticed that’s what is happening now. I have moved the dial on my inner radio station. I am going through the stations to get past the static until a station is clear and in tune. And as I have made these many big changes, there has been a lot of static! Yet, change is my new frequency. I am not sure what station or how many will come into focus, but I am open to listening to lots of stations. There is much to learn from static, the in-between stations, and the various music found in everything.
Embracing the Quiet
Wednesday, February 17th, 2021
I have come to terms with doing less and being more. I have written so many things in my head that have not made their way to the page. I have come to terms with spending the past year being in the moment. While I have appreciated seeing or reading about many people being so productive this past year (learning a new skill or cleaning out rooms or closets), I have spent the last 12 months listening and tending to myself.
Instead of keeping busy, I have been quiet. With less meetings, events, baseball games, nights out, vacations, or people to get together with, my schedule became empty—and I chose to not fill it. Rather, I studied the birds out my window. And watched the starlings leave the pine tree when it became invaded by grackles. I watched the cherry trees bloom from the bare branches to large pink flowers. I marveled at the squirrels leaping from tree to tree as the great chase became a daily comedy show. I lingered with my morning coffee enjoying the ever-changing sky. Unable to read novels most of last year, I found myself downloading podcasts and binge-watching television shows. At first, I felt guilty about my inability to read, write, or facilitate (on-line) workshops. And I made the mistake of comparing myself to other people who seemed to be doing so much. Yet, friends shared that they felt just as alone and scared during this time.
I was feeling so much grief about losing people I knew to the virus, working alone in my dining room for hours, staying inside, and the loss of not seeing family and friends. In The Wild Edge of Sorrow, Francis Wheeler writes, “Grief also reveals the undeniably reality of our bond with the world…We need grief in order to heal these traumas and make sense of a world turned upside.”
I needed grief to show me the way out and show the way in. I needed this quiet time to connect me to grace and God. And I needed to embrace the quiet within myself. Am not sure what this time will mean to me years from now or what lessons it will have given me. But I know that I have appreciated the small things, like long walks, songbirds, books, my sister’s homemade meals, and the need to not rush anywhere. For now, the quiet feels like a homecoming. And for today, I am embracing the quiet.
Getting Lost and Being Here
Tuesday, May 28th, 2019
I have no sense of direction. Turn me around and I get lost easily. Even with GPS on my phone, I can still get lost. I rely on the kindness of others to help me find my way.
On a recent trip to downtown Manhattan for a meeting, I got off at a subway stop that was apparently a good 10-minute walk to the place I needed to go. As I walked in circles trying to find my way, I finally asked someone walking their dog for directions. They pointed me in the right direction, and I headed off to my meeting. When the meeting was over, I was told there was an easier way for me to get back to mid-town. I began following their directions and found myself lost again. Frustrated by my lack of knowing how to get where I wanted to go, I paused to take a deep breath. I looked up and there was a huge sign, “Here.” That’s all I needed to know. That’s the place I needed to be – here.
Rather than rush to a subway, I stood at the corner taking in everything. I walked for a bit and came upon a café. I stopped and enjoyed some food and wandered some more. There was no place to rush to. All I needed was to be here.
All we have is this moment – here. While I will always rely on the kindness of others to help me find my way, I will rely on my ability to get lost, to be found, and to savor being here, wherever that may be.
Walk On
Wednesday, July 28th, 2010
Walk on
to the snow covered mountains
a view from a rear seat
of a new blazing sky
yet ignorant of the lessons
of that land
Teach me…walk on…
Arches
looking in or looking out
rested in your rocks
I could not shield myself
from the bitterness
shutting myself down
away from you
Heal me…walk on…
Raven
wings flapping
like window shutters
soaring above me
so I could see my God
my faith rebounding
Love me…walk on…
O Zion
praying to you
gave me unfamiliar faces
encouraging me to climb
up through the path
to the top or
to the beginning
Show me…walk on…
Bryce
your hoodoos captured
my heart and saved my soul
like the trees burnt
to ashes into the soil
by mighty lightening
Hold me…walk on…
Wisdom
a warming gift
of stories told and retold
the footprints are
a journey through land
a pathway to a healing heart
and an abandoned soul
Carry me…Walk with me…Walk on…
Walk on…
Mary Anne
(Written after traveling to Utah and hiking the National Parks)
“Just Listen. Nothing Else to Do…”
Tuesday, April 28th, 2009
I had the incredible opportunity to attend a weekend workshop with Byron Katie in New York City. Katie facilitates The Work, which allows you to question the thoughts that cause suffering. It was quite the experience (see my last blog). I often found myself holding my breath as people shared their life stories – the ones that caused them the most suffering. I was in awe and overwhelmed at the same time.
Sitting in a packed room, I was trying to figure out how to process what I was hearing. I decided to text a friend a mine a few lines Katie had said that really touched me. I thought this would allow me to open up more to the experience and feel less alone in the crowded space. About a half hour after sending the text, I received her reply, “Just Listen. Nothing else to do…”
I smiled down at my cell phone and exhaled. My body began to relax and my mind quieted. The text became my new mantra: Just listen – nothing else to do. My whole experience of the workshop shifted as I became more present in the room. Suddenly, I noticed how this huge ballroom with over 300 people became more intimate.
In this new space, I could really listen to Katie’s powerful words and noticed how they just floated in the room. With each breath, I inhaled the words that created an opening in my mind and heart. Here are just a few examples:
“Change the thought and it shifts. There is no other way.”
“It hurts until it doesn’t.”
“When you believe the thoughts about the world, you miss it.”
“My job is to love because it hurts when I don’t.”
“Nothing is ahead of its time.”
“People change when you question what you believe about them.”
“It’s what we believe that hurts.”
“If I see something unacceptable in another person, I have to look at me.”
“The past is over. Look at it without experiencing it.”
“It falls away – a little bit at a time.”
“We are who you believe us to be.”
“Love the one you are with. Sit. Rest. Meditate.”
I am so grateful to my friend for reminding me how to be open with such simplicity.
Just Listen – Nothing Else to Do…