The Things We Take For Granted

"We take for granted electricity, water, even concerts. Count your blessings." - Damian Marley

I was looking for a quote from some ancient wise sage or at least someone that we think of as wise. But none fit the topic quite like reggae musician Damian Marley’s words. Have you ever considered what it takes to pull off an awesome concert? What about turning on the tap and receiving clean water? Or flipping a little plastic switch and, voila, light? Are you grateful not just for the water, the electricity, and the music, but for all the people and resources that are required to provide them?

In my first career as a city planner, I worked a lot with infrastructure needs for communities. Today, as President of our local water and sanitation district board, I’m back in touch with just what it takes for the tap to flow and the toilet to flush at my command. After all that’s what most of us expect several times each day. Right? We simply don’t think about where our water comes from and what keeps it flowing to (and from) our home.

An event in our community this week evoked the thought that a bit more awareness could remind us that water is a precious resource. And, that knowing a bit about what is required to operate a water system could give us pause to be grateful to those who keep it flowing.

As a result of a series of equipment failures, our community awoke Monday morning to a “Water Use Emergency Warning”. We had lost the ability to pump water into the system. We had only the amount of water already in storage, two or three days at most, to keep the taps flowing. Residents and our summer visitors were urged to limit water use to drinking, cooking, and limited flushing.

In crisis is opportunity and the opportunity I found for myself personally was three-fold: awareness, choice, and gratitude.

I quickly observed numerous wasteful habits, mindless use of water that I needed to correct not just in the emergency but permanently. I became aware of how much water I can reuse and how little water I can comfortably get by on.

I recognized a choice to worry about the outcome or to sit back and allow those who know so much more than I to do what they do best. I hope that I was successful in doing the later, in helping with communication, in raising questions for us to consider as we look back and asses this event, and, perhaps most important of all, cheering on this amazing team.

I’m grateful beyond measure to the men and women who went far above and beyond the call of duty to get our system back in operation. Their efforts kept an emergency situation from becoming a serious community crisis.

Today we live in reliance on systems like the water system in my community and on the individuals who keep those systems running. I hope you’ll take a few moments when you turn on the tap to feel gratitude for their contributions to your life, and that you’ll consciously count this as one of your many blessings each and every day.

Mitigation With Love

"There are lots of things, including changing the kind of inner dialog, that can mitigate anxiety." - Scott Stossel

Mitigation is on my mind this week as I commissioned an awesome crew to help me mitigate the property surrounding my new home. I took on this project with a healthy respect for the potential that exists here for wildfires and, more importantly, with love for the land and the trees. I wanted to give them new life, something that removing dead branches does for a tree. I want to be a good steward of this land.

As I began thinking about this week’s post, I wondered ‘just what does mitigation have to do with life’?

Mitigation is defined as ‘lessening the force or intensity of something unpleasant’; ‘the act of making a condition or consequence less severe’; and ‘the process of becoming milder, gentler, less severe’ (thank you dictionary.com).

Early this morning, I noticed that unlike the 48 weeks prior to this one, I felt tense about what to write. I tossed in a dash of ‘should’ (really Cindy, you should start thinking about this earlier). The trust I feel each week about the message revealing itself waivered. Breathe.

Then, as it always does, the message began to come clear: ‘mitigate the pressure on yourself’. Ahhhh, yes, that. First step: the morning walk. This morning the air is clean, crisp, and cool after thunderstorms dropped blessed rain. Breathe that in. Notice how happy the earth feels under my feet, soft with the new moisture. Smell the freshness. Be grateful. Give thanks. Nature has her ways of mitigating tension and pressure. When we allow her to she shows us the way.

Thoughts and ideas began to flow. The process of becoming ‘milder, gentler, or less severe’, personal mitigation starts within. At its best, love is the foundation.

Like the fire mitigation project I completed this week, thoughts anchored in love not fear make life flow with ease. In choosing loving thoughts, I’m better able to walk through life with grace. Love, patience, gratitude, compassion are just a few of the seeds I can use to mitigate from the inside out.

Unlike the fire mitigation project, personal mitigation is an ongoing process. It requires my presence and awareness to notice when dead branches show up as thoughts that don’t serve me. For only with that awareness can I make the choice to replace fear with love, impatience with patience, loathing with compassion, and ungratefulness with deep reverence and gratitude.

Reflection for the Week: Look deep inside to discover any thoughts that need to be mitigated. Insert love to replace each and every one.

Deeply Touched

"All of love, happiness, and freedom are available in the ocean of consciousness." - Gregge Tiffen

This morning, the fourth anniversary of the death of a beloved dog, Ellie, I’m feeling deeply touched by the beauty and flow of life.

I’m so blessed to live in a place of quiet, natural beauty. These mountains and trees and wildlife have opened me to a deeper, more consistent awareness of the love, happiness and freedom that are available to us all when we allow ourselves to receive their bounty. I’ve come to notice and appreciate the so-called small things in life: the ripening of the first tomato, a nesting western wood peewee outside my front door, the sun breaking over the Sangres bringing light to the day, or an unusual action by Cool Hand Luke.

When something touches me these days it does so more deeply,  awakening a curiosity that wonders 'just what in me is touched by this?' This morning, checking Facebook to see what new pictures of precious Annie-Kay might have been posted (none yet today, darn), I found that I’d been tagged in a post “In The Final Minutes of His Life, Calvin Has One Last Talk with Hobbes”. I can’t type the title without getting teary-eyed. I encourage you to read it here: http://www.tickld.com/x/this-guy-just-changed-the-way-we-seecalvin-and-hobbes

I’ve been a fan of the feisty Calvin and his sidekick, Hobbes, for as long as I can remember. The creativity, inventiveness, and imagination of Calvin, coupled with his devil may care approach to life and love of his friend hooked me into many hours of laughs, smiles and pleasurable reading. This poignant post and Calvin’s last act of love (with a touch of his trademark mischievousness) touched my soul in a way that I don’t have words to share.

It speaks a truth that though the body dies, life and our great next adventure continues. But I sense that it touched something else in me. Something that isn’t quite yet awake. I’m curious to explore and discover just what that is.

And, what about Luke’s unusual action that I mentioned earlier? Two nights ago as I was reading in bed with him snoozing nearby, Luke awoke, jumped off the bed and headed to a corner of the room that’s not particularly dog friendly. As he was coming back, I noticed that he dropped something from his mouth before hopping back up on the bed. What was that something? My very own Hobbes, a stuffed tiger that Luke learned early on is not his toy. He’s honored that training for years, and it was clear that he didn’t put it in his mouth to play. Looking back, it seems he was reminding me of Hobbes in some gentle way and preparing me to receive the message.

Invitation for the Week: Notice what touches you deeply this week. Be grateful for your awareness.

Independence Is The Law

"Dependency is a basic violation of Universal law." - Gregge Tiffen

There is no question in my mind that the radical, revolutionary visionaries that founded the United States were deeply in touch with Universal law and sought to create this nation aligned with Universal principles.

I also believe that we’ve strayed as a country and as individuals from living fully into the independence that was a pillar of their creation and still is immutable Universal law. Taking responsibility for operating from independence requires attention, awareness, and (gulp) courage.

I’m coming to experience (and thus to deepen my belief) that at any moment, in any circumstance I have the power, the free will to choose differently. The rewards for making those choices are vast and deep, the most important being the joy of self-satisfaction and its deepening to self-love. These are not selfish, self-centered ways of being. Rather, they are what we are meant to experience as we chart the path of our lives in alignment with the unique blueprint that we each came to this life with.

The process of purchasing a home provided many opportunities to do just that. I did my best to rise to each occasion (and I forgive myself for not always doing so or for being less than gracious through part of the process). As I look back at the hoops that I jumped through and the amazing support that I received, I’m aware that at every turn, every hurdle I remained at choice. I never felt a sense of being a victim or of ‘having to do’. I chose with each hurdle to act from ‘okay, here’s my next step, let’s see where it leads’ rather than ‘I have to do this because, if I don’t, they will (or won’t) …’.

Either way, my actions might well have been the same. But the gift of making them from a place of choice protected me from any sense that I could lose or be hurt. I was willing to ‘let the chips fall where they may’. At its core that is the promise and the gift of independence.

Today, I not only own a home that I love (and look forward to sharing with others who need and want respite from the busy, noisy world), I have a deep sense of gratitude and satisfaction for how I walked through the process. The home and other material things I can’t take with me when I’m complete with this life, this body. But, the satisfaction, the gratitude and whatever wisdom I gained from the experience are forever a part of my consciousness.

Invitation For The Week: As you bask in the stars and stripes, the red, white and blue, enjoy a burger and your beverage of choice, take time not just to be grateful for the promise of independence, but reflect on the attitude you bring to your life’s choices and the freedom those choices represent. Are you operating as you are meant to: independent of all others? Rinse, repeat, and ask again.

Stepping Up To The Plate

Life is a game to be played, not a fight to be won. 

Swinging at curve balls is part of the fun.

If you’re willing, you learn a lot before you’re done.

I discovered a love of baseball when my stepson, James Michael, started playing Little League and wanted to go watch the Houston Astros. The game’s pace fits mine. Baseball is amazingly strategic. And, every player is required to step up to the plate to have a chance to score.

Life is like that. We step up to the plate in countless ways as we go through each day. Then, life throws us a curve ball and suddenly we’re aware. I’m at the plate. It’s the bottom of 9th inning and the outcome rests on my shoulders. Do I tense up, feel the burden, the responsibility of solving the problem at hand? So, often that’s our habit, developed with years of unconscious practice. Or, do I take a breath, see an opportunity to loosen up, adjust my approach and confidently swing away?

I had the chance to make such a choice this week as I rounded third base moving toward closing on the purchase of a home. Two curve balls back to back were pitched my way. I took a breath (several actually!), relaxed and stepped in to swing.

The first challenged me to quickly get a repair done, including negotiating with the seller who would pay. The second required me to explain (yet again) self-employment income in a way that corporate folks who receive a paycheck regularly could understand and accept that really I can make the payments.

I put aside the idea that ‘if I don’t do this right I’ll lose the home’ along with the stress of that story. I stepped into curiosity about what I might learn and discover in the process of being at bat. I got clear about how I would approach each, starting with my attitude. This was not a fight to be won, but a learning opportunity to be embraced.

That foundation served me well. I quickly found a talented construction guy who was available immediately (unusual here in the summer) and we were able to purchase the needed materials right here in town (a year ago, getting them required a 120 mile round trip drive or waiting a few days for a delivery). The repair was done within hours and, best of all, I discovered an inventive, economical approach to another project that I need to do on the house when the purchase is complete, and I added another competent resource to my network.

Explaining my finances deepened my confidence and conviction that buying this home is the right move for me on many levels.

In every curve life throws our way is opportunity and possibility. When we are willing to let go of the drama and look beyond the pitch and within ourselves to discover just what that can be, I trust that it will always be there.

Reflection for the Week:  How do you swing at life's curve balls?

Summertime in the Cycle

"Be aware of yourself. If you are not doing what you want to do and where you want to do it, you are out of your cycle." - Gregge Tiffen, Impatience Fishes and Empty Pond

In two days we reach the midway point in the earth’s annual cycle. We’ve come a long way from the shortest day of light, Winter Solstice, to the longest, the Summer Solstice. In those six short (or long, depending on your perspective) months dark has given way to light. Stillness and quiet stepped aside and invited us to dance and engage more fully in life outside of us. The light, vibrant, active energy of summertime that lay dormant under a blanket of snow has come alive yet again.

Flora offer a wonderful illustration of the contrast between the seasons and this coming of the time of growth and vitality. As winter approaches trees drop their leaves and turn inward. In spring, new leaves appear. And, now dressed fully in their new green, trees provide shade. They bear fruit for our nourishment and eating pleasure and for their own procreation. Flowers, dormant in winter, have their own cycles that bring them out into the light to show their colors, like this cactus on our morning walk.

Elsewhere in nature, streams frozen in winter, begin to trickle in spring and now flow fully in summer’s warmth. And we, though we have lost so much of our connection with the nature’s cycles, somehow naturally follow this pattern.

This year especially I notice that I am. Ideas and projects given quiet, thoughtful attention in winter have come to life. In the cold, dark of winter they were but seeds of possibility, dreams, ideas. Like all seeds though they contain the full potential of what they can be and with the light and warmth of summer, they are bursting forth.

Some days they seem to carry me rather than me having to move them along. Those are the days of magic, flow and synchronicity. When I look back on them, they are the days when I listened and followed whatever my internal compass seemed to say.

Nature’s cycles remind me that everything has its divine right time. The more deeply I’m aware of and in touch with those cycles, the more patient I am with cycles outside of me. My gratitude for the tomatoes on the vine feeds my patience, knowing that one day I’ll taste the wonder of that gift. I’m more accepting and patient when I’m in tune with my own rhythms. I hear those inner nudgings to take action ‘now’ as well as those that suggest I wait, allow things to unfold in their time.

That’s the dance in which the experiments of life and experience of curiosity become an increased capacity to adjust and to adapt without losing who I am. In the longer light, warmth, and outward flow of summer with all of its activity, as I reach out in many directions, let me not forget my own rhythms and cycles in this larger dance that life presents.

REFLECTION FOR THE WEEK: Are you doing what you want, when and where you want?

Influencers

"Example is not the main thing in influencing others. It is the only thing." - Albert Schweitzer

We have a lot of things competing for our attention these days. Varied media and social media offer an abundance of advice, products to buy, news and more. It seems more and more challenging to be quiet and allow my inner knowing to rise and trump all the noise. And yet when I take a closer at my life, what has influenced me most are people, both historical figures and those whose paths I’ve been blessed to cross in this life, who did just that. They have been and continue to be my true influencers, my personal heroes if you will.

When I line them up and look at each, I easily see a common thread. They did not follow the pack. Each in their own way lived life on their terms. Ultimately they didn’t choose a path that the world suggested was what they should do, what you might call a traditional path. Not that they made this discovery early in life. Most, like me, made choices early that I suspect were in line with what the world (family, society, etc.) expected.

Then, something happened – an event, a person, or perhaps something they read. That something provided one of life’s choice points: stay the course even though it didn’t feel right (but provided so called ‘security’) or engage on a path more true to your unique design.

Overall, the course my influencers followed was their own. They had the courage to put aside any care about what other people thought about their choices. My grandmother, Gran, comes to mind. She ripped out a wall in her home when a contractor told her it couldn’t be safely done. That created a wonderful pantry for her and one of my favorite childhood places to play. Located under a stairwell, it was just my size. Marge, my mother, was another.

She left a job that was her sole source of income when the company took an action that cut deeply into the retirement fund of its employees. That act of courage and principle planted a seed in me, the seed of knowing that I am always at choice. (And, yes, I have left behind ‘good’ jobs when I woke up to the realization that I was only there for the money.)

Going beyond family to those whose paths have crossed mine, my college dorm mother, Vivan Taylor, after raising her family, set out on her own path, her first stop being the dorm where I lived. She introduced me to ideas about the power of the mind. Gregge Tiffen, who I quote often here, was in the US Army until an experience in life led him to Tibet to pursue training in mysticism.

I’ve only just begun to introduce you to this parade of amazing people who lived life on their terms and, who in so doing, contributed to mine. You’ll likely meet others as I continue these weekly explorations.

Meanwhile, who are your influencers and what common thread connects them?

Dare To Be Loco

"Choose to be a locomotive. The cars will follow." - Gregge Tiffen

As I began to write about this idea of being the locomotive in your life, the two words ‘loco’ and ‘motive’ jumped out and me and as often happens in this Thursday morning writing space, the direction shifted … a least just a little bit. For me, that’s part of the joy of this commitment to write and share each week. And, that commitment is part of being the locomotive in my life, no matter how others respond.

Some days I discover that takes courage. Someone makes a comment that I take for a moment as a criticism. As long as that criticism is in play in my decisions, I’ve become the car, allowing someone else’s opinion to be the locomotive. Awareness first, then the courage to choose differently, put me back as the leader in my life.

It takes courage as well to buck the world’s ways, many of which seemed designed to keep us as box cars or tankers in the train of life, following what they would have us do. Parents, family, friends, schools, teachers, and more are well intentioned in what they offer, but they can’t know us and how we operate. They can’t know what is true for us, just as we can’t know them or any other. [Have I mentioned how I’m learning that living my life is a full time job (especially when I choose to be the locomotive!)? That, if you will, is a story for another day.]

I’ve long thought that many people ‘diagnosed’ as ‘crazy’ in some form need less pharmaceutical drugs and more understanding and space to be who they are.   In my heart I believe they are simply on a different learning trajectory than the systems – religious, educational, business, government – are designed to support. My heart sometimes aches for them and for what we lose in the approaches that we take toward those who don’t conform.

For me, being the locomotive in my life looks like living life as a learning laboratory. My motive is found in the question ‘what can I learn today?’ Some days it may be learning from a tree or a rock on our daily walking paths, or perhaps the soothing sound of a mountain stream has a message. This week I’m being curious about how to stay in my own rhythm and timing as I engage in the process of buying a home. And, at the same time, a small part of me wonders if that decision isn’t itself perhaps a bit ‘loco’.

Perhaps it may not “make sense” by all of the measures of the world. But, in my heart and my being, I deeply know it’s my next big step in life. Operating from that place, I look forward to discovering what cars line up to follow on my track.

Question for the Week: Where might you dare to experiment in the joy of being the locomotive in your life?

Reclaiming Our Childlike Qualities

"I am convinced that most people do not grow up...We marry and dare to have children and call that growing up. I think what we do is mostly grow old. We carry accumulation of years in our bodies, and on our faces, but generally our real selves, the children inside, are innocent and shy as magnolias.” - Maya Angelou - Letter to My Daughter

"As willing adults, we are able to trust, be curious, be enthused, be pleased with ourselves, and be fully generous once again. We are able to know and feel and experience the peace, joy, and love creatively produced by Mother Nature as we live in harmony with her." - Gregge Tiffen – Mother Nature

I’m coming to believe that maturity or growing up is about reclaiming the qualities that were natural to me as a child. I trusted. I was curious and enthusiastic (at least at a very young age). I participated in each day allowing one thing to lead to the next, and the next. And, I gave freely without any expectation of return, whether it was my love or my toys.

Then I began to learn from parents, from teachers, seemingly from life itself that to trust, to be curious, generous and enthusiastic was not safe. These were sure pathways to being hurt. I learned too that the road to being ignored, lonely and considered by others as egotistical was paved with self-satisfaction. I learned that there are so-called requirements and responsibilities in life (there are, but they aren’t what I learned back then). What I was supposed to do and who I was supposed to be in the eyes of others took over.

I was on a path, as the quote from Maya Angelou suggests, to growing old. It wasn’t pretty. Yes, there were some very good times, personally and professionally. But, despite the façade of smiles and positive words, deep inside I knew I wasn’t the happy camper I was designed to be.

Today, as I live more quietly, slowly, in touch with nature and, therefore, myself, I feel those childhood qualities growing in me and with me again.

I’m curious – not about anything and everything, but about nature and the laws of the Universe. I’m enthusiastic about experimenting to discover what works (and what doesn’t).   I trust that things turn out how they turn out and that is perfectly perfect (even when I don’t like it). I trust myself and I absolutely know that I know how to survive AND how to thrive. I’m pleased with myself and how I’m living my life (and, if that’s egotistical, so be it). And, I’m discovering that to the extent that I can be generous with me, I can be generous with others.

In learning to live in harmony with myself, I am growing in my capacity to “know and feel and experience the peace, joy, and love” available equally to us all.  Imagine living life with the qualities these children in Turkey demonstrate in what may be the best commercial I've ever seen:  http://www.chonday.com/Videos/turkarilne2

Reflection For The Week:  In what areas of life do you experience the childlike qualities of trust, curiosity, enthusiasm, satisfaction and generosity? What would it look like to deepen and expand that experience?

Thoughts are The Seeds of Life

"With every thought, whether conscious or not, I create the quality of my life." - Cindy Reinhardt

We humans are such creative and powerful beings. Sometimes, we’re a bit silly too. Silly as in we have moments (hours, days, or longer) when we lose sight of just how powerful we are. Our thoughts are the foundation of that power.

When we forget, it seems as if we hand over our power to another person or an event. And, that they or it, not we, are creating the quality in our life. Who among us has not had the experience of thinking ‘if they (or it) would just change, I would be happy’? Those experiences have the possibility of waking us up and pointing to thoughts (conscious and not), beliefs, and stories that it may be time to shed.

I had just such an experience over the last week when at a tense moment in conversation some unconscious thought took over. I lost my awareness in the moment and with it my power to choose my path, to choose love over some (probably insignificant) fear. It wasn’t pretty.

These are the events in life that give me the opportunity to root out the weeds that pop up in the garden of my thoughts. I like to do so with care, rather than pulling and tossing blindly. Some weeds have hidden, unknown value. Upon reflection, they can be managed differently rather being destroyed. They can contribute to rather than detract from life’s quality.

My favorite weeding tools are contemplation, letting go, and forgiveness. Then, I nurture the garden of my remaining thoughts with gratitude, awareness, and practice.

As I walk through my own life’s events and, as a coach, have the privilege of hearing stories of the events in my client’s lives, I become ever more deeply present to just how powerful our thoughts are. With our thoughts we create joy. With our thoughts we create misery. We choose.

When we spill milk, we clean it up. We choose what tools to use and we choose whether to cry over the spill or to grow from it. With our thoughts we create the quality of our life from one moment to the next and beyond.

Experiment for the Week: Take time to notice your thoughts this week, especially in events that bring tension. What thoughts need weeding? What thoughts need TLC?