Embracing Spring's Newness!

"Nature is always moving forward and manifesting that which is truly new!" - Gregge Tiffen

In the most unnatural of ways, we’ve sprung our clocks forward and each in our own way is adjusting (or not). Unlike we hurried humans, nature in her time and at her own pace moves forward into spring as well. Tomorrow we welcome spring, 2015, and in nature that means bringing forth the new.

A gentle rain fell for much of the night (and just began again!) here at 8,000 feet – each drop new. High above at 9,000 feet and beyond new snowflakes fell. This much appreciated precipitation provides moisture for the new sprigs of green grasses that are just beginning to break through the newly thawed earth. It nourishes the pines, making new cones, as well as the junipers, aspens, cottonwoods as they begin a new season of growth here in the Sangres.

The quote today is from a booklet that Gregge published some eight years ago. It’s one of several that I like to read anew each year. I’m never disappointed, as there is always some new gem that I wasn’t yet ready to notice before.

This year I noticed his distinction about the word ‘renewal’ that we so often apply to spring being inaccurate in terms of what spring truly represents. Everything that bursts forth in nature each spring is new: new blades of grass, new leaves, new buds, new baby birds and deer. New. New. New!

This idea evoked an insight into why several projects and ideas that I was thinking about dusting off and putting attention to weren’t providing much spark. I realized that the ‘renewed’ energy I was trying to use was old, recycled, and even a bit stale. So I called forth NEW energy and, voila, my spirit lifted, my energy increased and projects which seemed more a burden than a creative joy began to move forward: new shelves in the kitchen, a new perspective about using financial resources, a decision to move forward with building a new deck, a new website and business identify (coming soon!), and a new spring my step – physically, mentally, and spiritually.

Most important of all though is a new lens through which to view my choices:

Am I simply in repetition mode OR am I making my life experiences new?

A few more words from Gregge say it best: “By failing to make an experience new, we recycle ourselves into stunted growth patterns. By making such choices, we fall out of synchronicity with the Universe and produce boredom instead of development.”

So, as you take time to welcome spring and the new moon tomorrow, think new, see new, speak new, do new, be new. Fasten your seat belt and enjoy the ride!

For Our Home: Planet Earth

"Do not ignore your role regarding the quality of life here on Earth. It is your input that contributes to determining whether tomorrow will be a beautiful day." - Gregge Tiffen in It’s Springtime: Flow with the Power of Nature (available here: http://www.p-systemsinc.com/publications.htm)

Years ago I had a passing thought that we need to become ‘patriots for the planet’. The phrase has never really left me, and now, as I discover more about the ‘nature of nature’ in Universal terms, I’m more clear than ever that we need to kindle new flames of passion and care for Planet Earth. She is after all our home.

Now, while I have deep admiration and support for environmental activists, what I’m suggesting here is that we need to come to a clear understanding of earth’s nature and to know – to deeply know and feel – that we humans are not separate from, but rather are a part of that nature.

We need to understand natural law on a level that science is only beginning to discover and validate: that collectively our level of consciousness literally creates the natural world. Take weather as an example. Most agree with what science continues to tell us: that mankind’s actions (driving our cars, operating our factories, heating and cooling our homes, etc. etc.) have and will continue to have negative impacts on the earth’s climate.

But, what about our thoughts, our attitudes, our level of consciousness? They too affect the weather.

Ancient rituals like rain dances were practiced in cultures more in tune with nature than ours. These people understood that their beliefs and actions consistent with those beliefs would make a difference. They understood that they were a part of nature, not separate from it.

Today though, we’ve lost awareness of that connection. For the most part, whether we are angry, fearful, upset or jumping with joy and gratitude, we don’t consider that our attitude is contributing to the collective consciousness. Nor do we make the connection moment to moment that our individual consciousness is contributing to a collective energy that must find an outlet. Negative attitudes will seek (and find) a weak place in the atmosphere. We call these ‘natural disasters’ without fully understanding what that means.

We’ve lost touch with our power AND our responsibility to the planet. Recognizing that loss presents us with the opportunity to re-establish our connection and to make conscious choices about the use of our power. As spring edges forth her newness here in the northern hemisphere, we have the opportunity to learn how to hear, see, touch, smell and taste our planet’s signs as guideposts in life.

I’m signing up to become a more conscious student of nature. What about you?

Beginning Anew

"Each moment holds the power of promise for you to exert your individuality, to expand in wisdom and to reflect only good. Universal intelligence is always working. Begin with a promise to yourself that you will co-create with it." - Gregge Tiffen

We’ve said our farewells to the year passed and, good or bad, hopefully we’ve let go and stepped fully into the new calendar year 2015. She’s already a week old, yet still a babe – with 358 days to live, laugh, love and create our lives.

Perhaps your year is off to fast start and you are well on your way to the awesome goals you’ve set forth. Or, maybe you’ve noticed that your goals just aren’t compelling you into action each day and you wonder ‘what’s up with that?’ Perhaps, like me, your goals are just beginning to form.

As I began to reflect on my goals for this new year, those that first emerged (and those that are most exciting to me) address quality of life: how I want to experience it rather than what I want to accomplish, what I want to learn more than what I can do with what I think I know, and how I want to be over what I want or need to do.

Deeply connected with nature, for example, giving myself time to walk the labyrinth and explore the woods out back. What does their deep quiet offer? Or, understanding the roles my physical, mental and spiritual bodies play and how they work so that I can better create with each.

I didn’t intentionally start there, rather those ideas simply showed up. And, I’m following to see where they lead.

In noticing these, I’ve begun to wonder if perhaps the world’s approach to goals [‘accomplish this and you’ll be happy, successful’; ‘do that and you’ll have the life of your dreams’] isn’t backward.

What might we create if with start by identifying the qualities we desire in life, declare them clearly, and then use the opportunities that come our way to create those qualities?

That’s how I’m beginning anew … what about you?

Luke's Solstice Gift

“Become totally empty; Quiet the restlessness of the mind; Only then will you witness everything unfolding from emptiness.” - Lao Tzu

My soul has been longing for my body and mind to slow down, stop even, and step into the pace and rhythm of this sacred time of year. That, after all, has been my practice for many years. And, the quiet of the snow blessed woods calls me gently each time I step out the door or look out the window at the beauty.

This year is different though. The world is also calling me to participate: clients wanting a last session of the year, visitors needing lodging here and the Dragonfly House, and key staff changes at the local agency where I serve as President of the Board. And, that doesn’t include a few holiday activities that nurture me – body, mind and spirit.

Something needed to shift and I knew it wasn’t likely to be the world inviting me to stop (or me declining an invitation). I needed to get beyond the either/or [stop and turn off the world OR forego the nurturing of Solstice time] and move to both/and [participate in the opportunities of the events offered by the world AND give myself the gifts of Solstice’ nurturing].

And, no surprise, the amazingly sensitive and awesome teacher in my life provided just the path, hopping onto the couch as I was snuggled in with a cup of tea before beginning the day. No, he didn’t curl up at my feet as he usually does. Rather, he plopped right on my chest (all 60 loving pounds) and fell fast asleep. The choice was clear: seize the moment and use it to honor my soul’s longing OR deny the gift (get up, put a log on the fire, write my blog, etc. etc.).

I seized the moment. For a blissful hour I watched my thoughts conspire to move me into action (or at least into thinking about what I needed to do in the world or how events might unfold) as I simply relaxed on the couch and allowed myself to bathe in gratitude for my life and to feel the unconditional love of the Universe through its messenger of the moment, Cool Hand Luke Skywalker -Texas Ranger.

Luke’s gift was a reminder that life is rarely about the win/loose, either/or choices that we so often allow ourselves to fall victim to. Choices, yes they are the core of our journey. But, when we empty the clutter of thoughts that cloud our clarity we obscure the beauty of that power of choice.

Luke and I wish you the best this season and invite you to take time for you and your soul. We promise that you won’t regret it.

P.S. A Solstice gift for you. Last year on this Thursday before Solstice I wrote about the beauty and blessings of this special time of year when “All of heaven and all of earth coordinate at the Winter Solstice.” Gregge Tiffen*

Winter Solstice is the time of natural transformation, newness that comes forth with or without our awareness. Winter Solstice is the time when our receptivity is heightened in consciousness. Is it any wonder that with fewer hours of daylight, we are drawn inside into our homes, perhaps under the covers, and definitely drawn to be inside ourselves at this time of year?

Home!

"There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home…" - Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz

As I sit down to write this morning, I’ve been home from my wonderful 11 day Thanksgiving holiday for less than 24 hours. I’m struck more deeply than ever by how much I love my home, Luke and the quiet, consistent beauty of the woods where our home is nestled. I’m in that blissful ‘I never want to leave’ state of peace that coming home brings.

I’m also mindful that the events I experienced on this trip are rich territory for reflection now that I’m home, where reflection comes easily and nurtures me in so many ways.

Naturally, the memories of a fun, relaxing week with my cousin and her dogs in eastern Washington top the list. How we easily adapted when a dead battery aborted a planned hike out to Kamiak Butte, choosing to hike an urban trail, and stopping for coffee along the way. No lattes in the woods, and nature’s beauty abounds in the rolling hills of her small college community.

Although I love my morning walks with Luke, it was nice to have a break from our routine and to sip tea or coffee over a daily newspaper with comics (in color!) each morning. I saw a couple movies (5 minutes away vs. 60 miles) and enjoyed great food, including a traditional Thanksgiving feast. Each morning I awoke looking up at a piece of art woven by a friend here in Crestone. And, most important of all, just hanging out with my cousin in the beauty of her art-filled home made for a memorable trip. Friends who know us both say we’re more like sisters, and I agree.

Events at the outset of the trip are also on the reflection list, including how I navigated a situation that arose with the person I’d engaged to stay with Luke. When she didn’t arrive as planned, a friend came to rescue him from six hours in his kennel (I thought he’d be there a couple hours at most) while I was on the road to Denver some 200 miles away. After a restless night wresting with not having care for Luke and what seemed to be an aborted trip, my friend called and said “I want Luke to stay here with me while you’re away. Go. Have fun!” And, that I did.

As I settle in to sort mail, pay bills, stack wood along with other so called ‘chores’, I have the joy of reflection to look forward to in this season that, for me, evokes just that: going within and reacquainting me with me.

Reflection for the Week: What rich territory is available for you to reflect upon as we enter this winter season?

Managing Our Stories

"No matter what the lips may be saying, the inner thought outspeaks them, and the unspoken word often carries more weight than the spoken." - Ernest Holmes – The Science of Mind

This week I discovered (much to my chagrin) I have some distance to go to manage the stories I manufacture about others and events that waste my energy. You know the stories that I refer to. They’re the ones that become like that catchy tune you find yourself singing in your head.

I don’t know about you, but when I feel totally justified in my position, I don’t easily let it go. In my head, I tell the world what a jerk someone was. And, I tell him (or her) off, citing how stupid (or some variation thereof) they’ve been. I need a ‘no trespassing’ sign for my thoughts!

On some level there must be a perceived payoff. Perhaps it’s a twisted version confirming just how smart I am. Ha! Yep, I’m so smart that I’m allowing another to occupy the sacred space of my being. And, the cost of that occupation is huge, wasting my time and my energy focusing on a past event that I can’t change. Or, worse projecting into the future how I might ‘get even’ or ‘show them’. Ugh!

What I realized this week (duh!) is that when I throw away my present, my essence goes right along with it. When I’m holding on to one of those stories, I’m not being who I was designed to be. I’m not deeply connected to nature’s beauty when the static of a story is playing in the background. I’m not attentive to whatever task is at hand. I’m not really focused on the present conversation with someone else or to what I’m reading. Most of all, I’m not present to me.

And, the atmosphere I create is not the atmosphere I want to live in. Growth whether personally or in the garden requires nurturing, patience and time. These onions planted along with carrot, beet, turnip and other seeds reached their harvest time just this week.

I’m grateful for the person and event that sparked this deeper awareness of something that I’ve known for a long while. And, for my willingness to notice both how far I’ve come and that there is still some road to travel. Now, back to nature and the presence she deserves!

Exploration for the Week:  What stories (or songs) are replaying in your head?  Are they supporting you or do they need to be banished?

All Hallow's Eve

"Each of us is a living spirit. When you’re dead, you’re not dead. You are very much alive." - Gregge Tiffen

Last week many in our community celebrated the life of a feisty artist who died just a few days shy of her 91st birthday. How her life was celebrated seemed to me to create a bridge between what we know as ‘living’ on this side and what we think of as ‘dead’ on the other. The ceremony itself and the words spoken by family and friends were a beautiful reminder that this body I inhabit is only one small slice in the bigger pie that is my life as a living spirit.

That event and the coming of Halloween on October 31 presented an opportunity to take a look at the nature of life as I understand it and at the messages that surround me in nature, natural billboards that proclaim “life everlasting”.

For me, trees carry this message beautifully in the cycles of the seasons and in what happens when the tree dies. The tree lives on long after its death. It may simply decompose in the forest, providing a rich environment for new tree life to sprout. Or, the dead tree may become firewood, like that I’ve been stacking, ready to break the morning chill.

In the autumn, brilliantly colored leaves that sprouted in spring’s warmth gently fall to the ground. At quick glance, the tree appears dead during the winter. But, it will burst forth again after the snow melts and it is touched by the warmth of the sun.

I believe life is like that on this planet we call home. When, this body is done, I believe that, like the tree, I will live on, continuing to develop, learn and grow. Then at some perfect future point, one that is just right for my learning, another body, another life will come along. And I’ll catch another ride.

This week as I sit by the fire in the quiet beauty of a fading fall, I ask to know more about the other side. I want a glimpse of what life is like beyond the bounds of this body that is, at least for now, my home.

Stack Wood. Carry Rocks.

"Before Enlightenment chop wood carry water, after Enlightenment, chop wood carry water." - Zen Proverb

This week I’ve been stacking wood in preparation for winter and carrying rocks up to the labyrinth I’m building in the woods behind Dragonfly House. Along the way, I discovered what a joy these tasks are when I engage in them mindfully. Yep, duh, smile (we all know this, right?)!

So often when doing such tasks, I find myself immersed in thinking about something else: the project I’m working on that isn’t going like I want it to, the long list of other things I could (or at that moment think I ‘should’) be doing, or who I can get to give me advice about a roof repair. More worry than thinking, if I’m honest. I came to the awareness this week that I was wasting energy, my precious energy. And, perhaps more importantly, I realized that I was depriving myself of joy.

And, so I shifted gears.

The task of hauling rocks up and placing them in the labyrinth, became an exercise in communing with each rock and with the land and the trees of the labyrinth space. As I let go, each rock spoke more clearly than the one before, guiding me where it was to be placed. Some of the rocks placed earlier asked to be moved. I joyfully granted their wish. In the energy of this sacred space, I began to deepen both my connection to all that is AND my independence and freedom as an individual. You might guess that I find this much more rewarding and productive than worry. Pure joy! And, I have a sense of satisfaction not only in completing the work, but also in my approach.

Now, as I’ve go out to stack wood each day, I set aside the projects and decisions around which I feel stuck. I fully engage in the geometric puzzle of stacking wood so that each stack is stable (don’t ask how many I’ve toppled along the way!) and allows air to move and further dry my fuel. More joy and satisfaction!

An added benefit is a sense that the experience has strengthened my patience muscle. As I shift back to those ‘stuck’ projects and decisions in the weeks ahead, I’m guessing that patience will serve me well. And, that they will move forward at just the right time and in just the right direction.

Success comes in many forms and this week, my own personal SuccessZone has been one of discovery and deepened conviction. To joy, satisfaction, and patience, I add gratefulness. Oh, and I didn’t miss a moment of the beauty of the colorful Autumn here in the Rockies!

Invitation for the Week: As you go about some routine task, notice where your thoughts are. Bring them back to you, to the task at hand, and discover what joy you may be missing.

Patience

"The reward of patience is patience." - St. Augustine (born 354)

I had an opportunity to choose and practice patience this week. I’m glad I made the choice and, in hindsight, grateful for the opportunity. Along the way I discovered I don’t think of myself as especially patient, especially when traveling. And, of course, the opportunity to choose patience came in just that venue – a road trip to Denver, normally a three and a half to four hour drive away.

The first half of the trip was fairly normal, a bit more traffic than usual on this particular road, but it was flowing smoothly. No big trucks chugging up the mountain passes to slow me down.

Then, just beyond the half-way point, approaching a small town, we slowed to a crawl which soon thereafter became a stop, a short crawl, stop and all I could see ahead was a long line of cars, one big long parking lot.

I was curious. What’s ahead that’s causing this traffic jam - road construction or a wreck?  When it became obvious that we were going to be slowed for a long while and not arrive in time for a planned event, I set aside angst, frustration and disappointment, then texted a message to let the folks expecting us that we’d be late.

We opened the windows and while Luke either slept or sat patiently in the back seat, I saw rock formations and colors that, while beautiful traveling by at high speed, held even more beauty when I could simply gaze upon them.

The golden aspens were lovely and we joked that we could see the colors changing as we sat and from time to time slowly moved forward.

I watched people as well. Several made u-turns, heading back from where they’d come, none looked like they were having fun. While we donned cameras, others talked on their cell phones, again, not looking too happy. Of course, I can’t know where they were headed or what urgency they felt. I only know that I made a choice that brought me peace, not just there on the road, but for the meetings that lay ahead.

Two and a half hours and about 45 miles later, traffic began to flow at normal speed and we flowed with it. No signs of construction or a wreck, I’m guessing ‘the jam’ was simply folks who’d been up in the mountains for the peak of fall colors returning to the city. But I’m grateful for the lesson and the practice. Peace was the beautiful bloom of my patience.

Opportunity for the Week: Choose patience when something isn’t going your way.

Create New Stories We Must

"You must unlearn what you have learned." - Yoda

I can imagine Yoda observing our world today and advising us from his deep wisdom to create new stories. You see, our stories come from our thoughts and our beliefs. And, they seem to have a way, consciously or not, of strengthening our beliefs, even those that don’t serve us.

Then, we wake up to find ourselves mired in difficult challenges, worry, or fear and looking outside for the cause. But when we have the courage to look within, we create an opportunity to find the real cause and, if we choose, to shift it.

At this time last year, shortly after I started these weekly posts, in the midst of an unplanned move, I discovered that my phone and internet provider could not provide service to my new location. That situation and how I chose to navigate it deepened my conviction of just how powerful my thoughts are. I have a clearer understanding that the Universe is designed to follow our thoughts and put them into form. I’m unlearning what I have learned and, with my new learning, a new story (okay, a new life) is emerging.

And so it can be, it must be, for all of us – individually and collectively. If you can’t yet feel it in you, then look around to see the call for new stories: 400,000 marching to create a new story for our environment; hundreds of events worldwide calling for non-violent approaches to our differing points of view; and the Findhorn Foundation’s New Story Summit beginning this weekend (you can follow it on Facebook or at http://newstoryhub.com/).

In my work with clients as in my own life, creating awareness of the story is a starting point for making change. Earlier this week I asked a client “what might it be like to take on loving your role as manager?” She’d come to coaching to get clarity about whether she wanted to continue to serve in management. In our coaching, we explored the stories she’d told about herself and about managing. In response to my challenge, she quickly declared “I’m blessed to use my skill and talent and be grateful for it. I can focus on that … and remember the love. It’s so simple.”

Simple, yes, but unlearning what we have learned and reinforcing our new learning daily in our thoughts, language, and our actions is a process that requires diligence, practice, and (one more thing) “PATIENCE YOU MUST HAVE my young padawan.”

Challenge for the Week: Notice a story that you tell in many ways to yourself and to others. What have you created with that story? Is it what you want? What new story can begin to take its place?