Life's Knots

Springtime In the Rockies!

Every knot was once a straight rope. Gregge Tiffen

Sometimes, especially when we’re surprised by an unexpected challenge, we go negative. Fear and worry set in.  We may find it difficult to sleep. Our focus stays fixed on the problem and our fear that we don’t know what to do.   On some level we all know better.  But our ability to tap into that knowing is blocked by our negativity.

It’s at these times that Gregge’s metaphor of the knot once being a straight rope reminds me of another of his truisms: “There is always an answer.”  Ahhh … breathe that in for a moment. There is always an answer.  (Rinse. Repeat.)

I’m taking a bit of a turn this week to share a process that I discovered from reading a transcript of a lecture that Gregge offered over 30 years ago. The context of the lecture is health and strength of the cells.  He says, “The argument for good health in terms of cellular strength is the argument that says you cannot be affected by the negative to any degree as long as the cells are healthy because they will not sustain this negative flow going through. The cells will reject the information and turn it into a positive form.”

So, my health is a critical factor in how I respond to life, in particular my ability to access beliefs like ‘there is always an answer’ when the pressure is on.  As I read on, just beginning to scratch the surface of this obvious yet potentially life changing idea, Gregge offered this simple three step process for clearing the system of the toxicity of worry:

1.      Run around the block – Exert yourself to the point of huffing and puffing to “clear the blood and strengthen the cells”.  Put your attention on that intention: clearing the negativity rather than on the knot that you need to untie.

2.      Drink lots of water – Drink lots of water to “flush and neutralize the system”.

3.      Go to bed – sleep. And, if tomorrow finds you still anxious and worried rather than able to face the knot, repeat the process.  I believe that Einstein once said that he solved many problems by taking a nap.

This is contrary to much of our learning and the habits that we’ve developed. We believe that we need to focus on the problem and worry over it until it is solved.  We put tremendous pressure on ourselves (our cells) to do just that.  As I discover more and more, I see just how high the cost of that pressure is: our good health.

Thankfully, I’m not faced with a big life knot right now. And that seems like a good time to start a new practice: shifting the intention and focus of my exercise, water intake, and rest to strengthening myself (my cells) for the time when just such a knot will appear. 

Worthy of Reverence

"The body is the only thing you own. It’s the only thing you have a total right to work on. It’s the only thing that will bring you absolute results without any other outside addition. There’s nothing you can name that will do that." - Gregge Tiffen in Open Secrets: The Hidden Worth of New Wealth (http://www.p-systemsinc.com/publications.htm)

Inspired by reading more of Gregge Tiffen’s work, yesterday morning I woke to being curious about my body, so I decided, just for the day, to pay attention to what I ask of it. The first 10 minutes alone set the stage for a day of wonder and the emergence of deep reverence and gratitude.

I promise this post isn’t a biology lesson (my least favorite subject in school and one I came close to flunking), but along the way, my curiosity led me to look up a few facts. I learned that the body has approximately 640 muscles (though there is some debate about the exact number) and 206 bones (208 if you count the sternum as three). Those count for only a portion of the billions (some say trillions) of cells that make up each physical body on the planet.

Scientific fact aside, I came to a deeper awareness of my body as an awe-inspiring creation in terms of what it is capable of: movement, food processing, sight, taste, touch, speaking, hearing (just to list a few!). Can even the most complex of man’s creations come close to that? To add to the wonder, each of us has one of these amazing creations. It is ours, and ours alone, to use.

Just how much I take my body for granted began to come clear by the time my first foot touched the floor when I got out of bed. By that time I’d directed my body to open eyes; stretch each arm, leg, and my torso; sit up; swing legs over the side of the bed. Then, to stand, to take a step, and another, and …

Ten minutes or so later having brushed my teeth, built a fire, made a cup of tea and settled into my morning quiet time, the wonder was building. I looked at my hands in awe of their role in my life. I thought of my little feet and their ability to hold me upright as I move through the day. Although I don’t to push my body to athletic limits, I do demand that it move through each day’s events. Some days – like those when I was schlepping rocks up to the labyrinth site, shoveling snow, or hiking high up in the mountains – I ask more than others. With only a rare groan, my body complies.

My experiment yesterday brought me to a place of deeper appreciation, reverence, and gratitude for this body and all that it does. It also brought a sense of deepened responsibility and possibility: responsibility to care for it in perhaps some new ways, certainly with more awareness, direction and purpose; and possibility for the results that are certain to follow.

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?

Choosing Faith Over Fear

"So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance." - Franklin Delano Roosevelt (in his first inaugural address – 1933)

We’ve all felt that “nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror” that stops us in our tracks. Sometimes though, fear isn’t so obvious. It creeps into our thoughts as concern and into our words and deeds as we navigate daily life. Perhaps we don’t notice feeling especially fearful, but we find ourselves worrying. That worry can lead us down any number of destructive paths. It blocks us from the creative flow of the Universe.

The antidote is faith. I’m coming to understand more deeply that I respond (or react) to life’s events from one or the other – fear or faith. One brings me joy and curiosity. The other brings stress and pain.

Developing faith first requires us to know what we believe. I personally believe in an abundant, loving Universe that offers a cornucopia of opportunity of all shapes, forms and colors. All that is asked of me is to ask, trust, and step forward to receive.

After we come to understand what we believe (or perhaps even what we think we might or could believe), faith requires consistent practice, bringing our belief into everything, to each event life brings our way. In making this my practice (and in sometimes forgetting to do so) I’ve strengthened my conviction about the nature of the Universe.

This week, I’ve had the opportunity to choose faith rather than stepping into fear when, much to my chagrin, I discovered that I’d made a costly error. I misread the ‘free trial period’ offer for a course that I wanted to try out, and when I called to cancel, I was told that I wouldn’t receive a full refund because I was beyond the trial period. I felt a surge of energy. I paused. I took a breath. I made my case and admitted my error as I talked with a customer service representative and up the chain to his boss. I kept in check what could have easily become fear expressed as anger.

When the conversation ended and after a brief ‘you should have paid more attention’ conversation with myself, I plugged into my belief that the resources I need will come and that being angry would block the flow. I stopped any conversation in my head about ‘them’ or ‘me’. At day’s end an email informed me that ‘voila’ I had a new client, a step on the path to recovering my loss.

This week, I’ve also had the opportunity to observe a community conversation around the budget and proposed fee increases by the agency that provides water and sanitation services. Some residents have expressed concern that increases will continue and they won’t be able to afford to live in the community. As the conversation has unfolded via email to board members (I serve on the board) and on social media, I’ve observed some who engage in angry, inaccurate comments stated as fact. They seem to have no interest in dialog. From my perspective, they are grounded in fear.

Others are concerned, but come forth with questions and curiosity about how we can do this differently. I sense that, while they don’t know the answers, they have faith that we can chart a course that works. Watching this conversation up close and personal and preparing to participate in it when I chair tomorrow’s board meeting, has me wonder ‘what is the world we will create when we choose faith over fear’? I don’t know, but my imagination likes the look and feel of this possibility for myself personally, for my community, and for the planet.

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.

A Dollop of Courage

"Courage comes from experiencing inborn fears." - Gregge Tiffen

I danced with a fear this week. It wasn’t a very graceful dance until the experience neared its completion and I was able to breathe in a breath of understanding and gratitude.

The dance began with an observation about Luke. He wasn’t his normal playful, snuggly, loving self for a few days and I began to ‘worry’ about what I should ‘do’ about this ‘problem’.

Over those few days I hovered over him as we went about our normal routines. I gave him some extra care and, along the way, began to think and worry that he was detaching. That’s when the fear kicked in with a force I could name: I was afraid of losing Luke.

I hurt deeply. The memory of another pet loss four years ago when Ellie, another precious dog that I cared for part-time, was hit by a car and killed showed up front and center. I trembled. I wept. I smothered a resistant Luke in love.

And, then I remembered.

I remembered that even dogs have days where they need their space and distance.

I remembered that consciousness has no idea of this thing we call death, even though the body’s journey is a finite one.

I remembered that all I experience in life benefits my learning – the learning that lives on in consciousness after the body is done.

I remembered that every experience of the deep and the dark holds the potential for light to follow.

That’s when I could smile, look back with a dab of understanding, and be grateful that, perhaps, I’d added a dollop of courage to my consciousness. Now, with loving, playful Luke curled up at my feet, I think that one dollop may be two.

Perhaps the fear was only at the surface and deeper reflection or another experience will reveal something more. That will come if and when I need it for my growth. Then I can call upon those dollops of courage to support me as I engage in the dance once more.

In the past I’ve been hesitant to call fear by its name. I needed to be ‘brave’. I avoided the dance. Now that I see fear as essential for developing courage, the tempo of the dance picks up and I’ll keep my dancing shoes nearby. Satisfied! And, Grateful!

Transition Zones

"We are constantly in a situation of applying the condition of re-adjustment." - Gregge Tiffen

As day breaks this morning, we’re in the path of two colliding weather systems – a winter storm moving in from the north and west, the remnants of a hurricane from the east. The beautiful vistas I often share are hidden in the clouds. These two systems won’t compete. They will simply meet and create our weather for the next couple days. At the moment it’s a gentle rain. The showers could continue, or they could become snow or flash flooding.

It’s a transition time, that time when it can be frosty one morning and 50 degrees the next. It’s a time for completing the harvest on the one hand, preparing for winter on the other. Re-adjustment. We’ve brought in all but the hardiest root veggies and a few winter squash. I’m curious whether the green tomatoes will ripen slowly enough to last until Thanksgiving as they did last year.

Preparing for winter in the mountains means procuring and stacking wood, shifting the summer fire ‘go bags’ (those things that I’d need to survive and those things I treasure in the event of an evacuation due to fire) to the winter ‘emergency travel bag’ (what I need to survive in an emergency on the road), and making sure that I have food and water on hand for at least a couple weeks in the event of a major storm. It also means moving clothes around in the closet – putting away the short sleeves and pulling out the turtlenecks, sweaters and scarves for soon those 50 degree mornings will be just a memory and the frost will be a deep freeze. Re-adjustment continued.

And, after a busy active summer – buying and improving a home along with opening a B&B, I notice an internal transition as well. I feel a pull to draw inward, not to hibernate but to slow down, to assess my ‘year to date’, and, in this time between the full moon lunar eclipse this week and the solar eclipse that will come with the new moon in a couple weeks, to look ahead to what experiences I want to create in the winter months ahead. Re-adjusting from the inside out.

That’s the invitation that the change of seasons (any change really!) brings. So as you don the winter clothes and put away your summer duds (or the reverse, if you happen to be in the southern hemisphere), give yourself the time and attention to invite your soul to join the party. 

What is its longing as light of days shortens and the darkness makes its presence more known?

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?

Friendship: A Path to Peace

"Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born." - Anais Nin

I love how Spirit (Life, the Universe, God or any name you wish to give the flow of energy moment to moment) works.   Ask. Expect. Receive. Simple, and not always easy.

Early this morning as I woke and picked up my journal, curious to discover what the focus of today’s post would be, I felt a pull between two seemingly opposite ideas: friendship and the violence occurring here in the US and abroad.

Although much of my week has been about friendship, I felt a deep need to speak to the violence that is front and center in the news. My heart said that I couldn’t ignore it. And, so I began to write about its roots, that through the ages we humans have built systems – governments and industries – that have fear at their core. The massive weapons industry relies on fear grounded in beliefs that one can destroy another who doesn’t have the force to strike first or defend. We fear death because we’ve lost our awareness that life is more than the body that our consciousness inhabits.

Where fear dwells there is little room for love. As I observe current events and the continued militarization of local law enforcement, I stretch my capacity to love and feel compassion for those who are so fearful that they believe taking another’s life will protect them. I seek to understand and feel love for those who hurt so much that they vilify others whose views do not match their own.

I imagine a world where peace and love prevail, and this morning’s quote, which landed in my ‘inbox’ compliments of HeartMath, brought me to see the connection that friendship is a path, a way to peace that violence can never create.

This week I am blessed with friends in abundance: visits from long-time friends [a 20+ year friendship that began at the first conference of coaches two years before the birth of the International Coach Federation], a shorter term friend [the amazing woman who fostered Cool Hand Luke out of the shelter and gave him the foundation for being the amazing canine companion that he is], and new friends with whom I have the honor of sharing the peace of Dragonfly House as they come to Crestone to study with their teachers.

These are easy friendships compared the relationships that are needed to forge peace. In my idealist heart and mind I see the beautiful possibility of befriending someone who is afraid. Of sending them love and compassion despite our different views of the world. I know that it will require ever more mindful choices of the words I speak and the choices that I make moment to moment, day to day, and beyond. May I be up to the challenge to contribute to peace in this way. What about you?

In the end I wasn’t required to choose between the two topics, but rather was gifted with a bridge that connected the two. Perhaps one path to peace is to be curious, open and seek bridges between seeming opposites and to allow what wants to emerge to present itself.

Reflections on Nature and Remodeling

"The mind within does the real seeing, the real interpreting of what the eyes look upon. The eyes can truly be called ‘the windows of the soul’." - Ernest Holmes

I always thought that the bible verse about the eyes being windows of the soul meant that when you look into another’s eyes you can see their soul. Until reading a selection from The Science of Mind that included the above quote, I’d never considered the idea that how I see the world, more particularly the events that I manifest into my life, is a reflection of my soul. Duh, of course it is. And, yet this BFO (blinding flash of the obvious) deepens my awareness that I am always at choice about how/what I see.

In the earthen dam that was washed out on Sunday in a deluge of rain and hail, I can see a huge problem that I inherited when I bought the property and that someone else is to blame. Or, I can see an opportunity to commune with my land and the surrounding land as well as with others who know more about drainage than I to create the best course of action. Do I choose fear and anger? Or, do I choose faith and love?

If I truly believe that every event in my life is there for me and my learning and if I am aware of that belief, then most likely I will choose faith and love. Then I’ll throw in a dash of curiosity: what’s possible now?

Perhaps I would more closely reflect how nature deals with challenges, including those brought to her courtesy of we humans. Remember the western wood peewee nesting outside my front door a few weeks back? Last weekend, just before starting construction of a new deck right below her nest, I thought she’d abandoned it and there were no babies. I climbed up to remove the nest and to my amazement there were two small furry gray beings pulsing. I climbed down and ‘momma bird’ soon arrived to warm her babes. A few days later, two beaks appeared and momma began to feed them. Yesterday they were more active as construction in and around them continued. This morning, the nest is empty, the babies fledged, out of the nest to make their way in the world.

Observing momma and her nestlings living above the chaos of construction noise, people coming and going and hollering back and forth all day for a week, made me present to how I’m navigating the remodeling projects in my new home. My eyes are seeing beauty unfold in the new tile, fresh paint and little touch ups that I’m choosing to do. And, for the most part, my being has danced with the unexpected oversights in planning (mine and the contractor’s) or his (and my) idiosyncrasies.

Luke too has simply observed as his quiet home became a beehive of activity.

Thus, I’m not only experiencing the pleasure of the fresh, new look in my home and the joy of preparing her to receive and nurture guests, I am filled with joy and personal satisfaction about the process. What could be better that that?

Reflection for the Week: How would your life shift, if you knew that everything holds the potential to serve your learning and growth?