Sea of Expectations

A Colorado Blue Sky Day

Expectation is resentment waiting to happen. In contrast, friendship liberates. John O’Donohue

The attachment to our expectations is the obstacle … Myra Jackson

We swim in a sea of expectations. Befriending our expectations means releasing our attachment to life unfolding in the ways we expect. It is indeed befriending all of life.

Exploring the idea of expectations and indeed examining some of my own has been ‘up’ for me in recent weeks. I’ve long had curiosity about how expectation weaves into life and has been an occasional thread woven into these weekly musings. One explored the distinction between expectations and promises (read it here).

Settling in with Muse this morning I recalled O’Donohue’s words that caught my attention some time back. While he was writing about relationships in particular and our expectations of others to be/do certain ways/things, Muse guides me to consider that perhaps expectations might become our friends.

In response to my quizzical look, Muse winks and prompts, awareness as a first step. We swim in a sea of expectations. Our lack of awareness of what we expect in the details of life is where the potential for resentment hides. Curious, I took a few minutes of self-inquiry: what do I expect in life/of life? In less than 10 minutes I’d listed 26 expectations, many of which are multifaceted (e.g. I expect my health care provider, my attorney, etc. to have my best interests) and all of which underlie daily life, actions, choices.

Until I took those few minutes to bring them to awareness it seems that my expectations were lurking in the darkness, resentment waiting to happen, ready to kindle a spark of anger should an expectation not be met.

Let’s say for example the internet connection is down, my computer crashes, the car won’t start. Or it’s raining on a day you’d planned a picnic … you get my drift here of all the things we expect to go a certain way without being aware that we expect it UNTIL something doesn’t.

What is your habitual response? A fiery reaction of anger? Springing into action to ‘fix’ the ‘problem’? Curiosity that the Universe seems to be redirecting you? Do you perhaps journey through all the above?

While I strive for the later (curiosity), I’m inclined to leap into action. Muse reminds me that sometimes the fiery Aries tiger reacts, suggesting that the trigger is that I’m attached to things being a certain way, to MY expectations being met. And to a tendency to ascribe some fault to myself when they aren’t. What did I do wrong? What error in my thinking ‘caused’ this?

Just as developing and maintaining friendships requires the nurturing care of awareness and to not being attached to our friend being/doing certain ways/things, perhaps expectations can be nurtured as friends with the same awareness and releasing of attachment to them. Muse says it more clearly: Befriending our expectations means releasing our attachment to life unfolding in the ways we expect. It is indeed befriending all of life.

As we put a cap on this week’s musing a few thoughts and queries dance into awareness:

• Gratitude is a key to releasing my attachment to how and what I expect life to be.

• What is the relationship between expectation and intention? Is there a pivot from expectation to intention?

• Innovation, calling forth and being open to the new, requires releasing any attachment to the details of how life unfolds.

It seems a door has opened … fodder for musings another day.

Last Light of Sunset

Names Create Spaciousness (Or Not)

Blessed Snow in the Woods Out Back

We need to exercise great care and respect when we come to name something. We always need to find a name that is worthy and spacious. John O’Donohue (The Danger of the Name – essay in Eternal Echoes: Exploring Our Hunger to Belong)

Oh, how O’Donohue speaks to my soul and kindles both memory and reflection this morning, connecting dots and opening a door to exploration as I sat with the weekly question: what do Muse and The Pivot want to point to this day?

As I re-read the essay that I’d landed in I was reminded of how my canine companion of nine, all to short years, Cool Hand Luke Skywalker, came to the name given him by his ‘foster mom’. Her story was perhaps my first conscious encounter with the importance of naming. She explained that she wanted to give him a name that “he can live into”. Given what little she knew of this pup’s life before the shelter, she was inspired by Paul Newman’s line in the movie Cool Hand Luke, “Sometimes no hand is the best hand of all.” In renaming him Cool Hand Luke, she opened doors of possibility for Lester, the name given him at the shelter.

But what about the ‘Skywalker’ part of his name?

I loved her story and Luke’s name as much as I loved the amazing dog. The importance of a name stayed with me. While observing Luke, I noticed some of his ways seemed Jedi-like, so naturally one day Cool Hand Luke became Cool Hand Luke Skywalker. I like to think that he lived into that name fully until the moment he took his last breath on this plane and that he continues to do so in the unseen world beyond the Rainbow Bridge.

I was also reminded that when ‘Sadie’ adopted me as her forever human three years ago, I wanted to give her a name to live into, one with greater possibility and potential that what I associated with the old comic, Sarge, Sad Sack, and Sadie, or Sadie Hawkins Day dances. I chose the name Zadie Byrd based on the feisty, loving, revolutionary character in Rivera Sun’s series, The Dandelion Insurrection. Ms. Byrd has her own way of living into that. Only later did I research the name Sadie and learn its Hebrew origin and meaning, princess. Perhaps she’ll become Princess Zadie Byrd someday. Hmm…Princess Leia she suggests.

Muse has patiently waited as I reminisced, eager to link my stories with recent experiences: my guidance to reflect on humility (mine and how I might tweak my engagement with it) and experiencing not having words (or that the old, usual words no longer fit) to describe something (several ‘somethings’ to be honest) in numerous conversations.

I’m coming to understanding that we/I are often so quick, and thoughtless Muse adds, to name things that we/I miss the richness of the experience. We limit ourselves to the known, the stories we hold about whatever name we’ve chosen. I’m often quick to name a feeling, an emotion so that I can move on, limiting my opportunity for reflection, deeper understanding, and, perhaps, even healing. What if the ‘sadness’ I named a few days ago was something else and had more to say had I given it space, time, and my lens of curiosity?

Perhaps that sadness held gifts like the ‘guilt’ that I carried deep inside (mostly unconsciously of course) for decades around an action against a family member when I was a child. Recalling the incident recently I discovered that the guilt named and put aside perhaps with some slight act of forgiveness long ago continued its life in me. It had gifts and insights to offer. When I dared dig deeper I discovered there had been no need to name and feel guilt at all. My action had been a blessing.

I sense we’re in a time where we need to give ourselves the skills, the time, the grace, and the spaciousness to name our experiences and our observations with greater care. How might our stories about disease, poverty, war, violence, etc. shift if in the darkness of their names and our stories we shined light? Light of possibility. Light of love. Light of care. What if we shunned the prisons that we’ve named ‘realities’ and bless them with new names?

I feel our world changing, sometimes gently, sometimes not so gently. A new age is rising. How we name the changes upon us will determine just how those changes look in our world. And how we experience them. Let’s be care-filled as we do!

Nature’s Sculpting

New Year, New Stories

Full Moon Spiral

I am a person who constantly is trying to liberate myself from my socialization and the weight of the culture that I was born into . . . so that I can choose in every moment how I want to respond based on my values and care for the whole. Miki Kashtan (8 January 2023 – This Nonviolent Life: Daily Inspiration for Your Nonviolent Journey – Pace e Bene Nonviolence Service)

More and more I’m noticing places where my values, my dreams, my care are at odds with so much what’s brought forward in mainstream culture, so it was no surprise that this daily quote caught my attention. Its declaration of aiming to be at choice about how to respond in every moment based on values touched a resonant chord in me. That very idea itself is liberating.

As I began to explore, I wondered, ‘Do we need to struggle? For me, the language of ‘constantly trying to liberate’ suggests struggle.  Muse sighs and tickles another question or two: On what foundation is our culture built? What’s beneath the surface of our cultural habits and our socialization into that culture?

Stories. And stories about stories. Our stories. Old stories. Accurate stories and those that are not. Stories. Conscious stories. And those of which we are not aware.

I’m no stranger to how stories form our world, the culture, and ingrained habits of living and walking in that culture every day. Or to how our own stories about those stories (yes Muse, MY stories!) form the life we experience and how we experience it. Indeed, The Pivot is replete with stories as was The Zone, its predecessor. And with calls for new stories to create our world anew.

I believe that every thought we think and action we take is based on layers and layers of stories and beliefs, many of which we are aware of and far too many of which have been lost to our awareness. Yet conscious or not they inform our choices, build our world. And they inform our snap reactions, as I was reminded by an experience – and my reaction – this week. (‘Now we’re getting to it!’ encourages Muse.)

Despite a good amount of work and attention to shifting over the years, I discovered that a long-held story that I’m not enough still lingers in layers of my being, popping in at inconvenient times without invitation or conscious choice.

I experienced such a ‘visit’ several days ago when I received results from a recent body scan, a tool intended to provide insight, direction, and support. But rather than seeing my results as they were intended, I reacted as if they were a personal affront, criticism, clear evidence to support the old story that I’m not enough.

I spiraled (‘downward’ notes Muse) for a bit, holding the results as an indicator of something ‘wrong’ in me that needed to be ‘fixed’. It was familiar, if uncomfortable, territory until a different story rose in me. That story invited a different view, a view that the results are an invitation, not to fix, but to grow, to learn, to deepen understanding and awareness. I embraced the invitation into new territory or to familiar territory in a new way, opening curiosity about what I might discover. A path of exploration became clear.

New stories. We need them individually and collectively in our chaotic world that is crying for a remodel, a reboot. No current writer/thinker that I’m aware of groks and writes about the importance of stories more cogently than Charles Eisenstein. And, given my experience this week, it’s no surprise that he published an essay a couple days ago outlining his ideas contrasting the old stories of separation with new, emerging stories of interbeing: What is the Next Story? (I encourage you to read or listen here).

With each choice, thought, and action we are following the old or making way for the new, supporting its emergence. I know which path I choose. May my choices be conscious, clear, and consistent with calling forth the new.

New Snow on the Peaks!

Soul Stirring of Winter

Beauty Abundant

The geography of your destiny is always clearer to the eye of your soul than to the intentions and the needs of your surface mind. John O’Donohue (Purity of Heart is to Will One Thing in Eternal Echoes: Exploring Our Hunger to Belong)

As winter weather continues to settle in and we move closer to the Winter Solstice, I find myself more pulled within. Much of what I read stirs something in this soul. I feel a choice point coming, a gestation of something that as of now has no words, no form, no clarity. Certainly, no certainty. I wonder how ‘it’ will emerge or even whether ‘it’ is an ‘it’ at all.

Muse gently reminds me to embrace the stirring and all that isn’t known, then guides me back to an experience that seems to point toward some shift on the horizon.

As I was putting away an abundance of leftovers a few days after my Thanksgiving feast with friends, I listened to Robin Wall Kimmerer reading her essay The Serviceberry: An Economy of Abundance in an Emergence Magazine podcast (find it here -- https://emergencemagazine.org/podcast/). She was speaking a topic near and dear to this heart while picking serviceberries: an economy based not on scarcity as it is now but on abundance, reciprocity, flow, a gift economy.

I listened, aware of the irony, the juxtaposition throughout: I’m packing and storing as I listen to a wise woman’s words about giving, sharing, and flow. Beyond the leftovers, I’m reminded of the abundance of pinon nuts that I harvested in the woods. Except for those shelled by a friend and enjoyed with our Thanksgiving feast, they sit on the pantry shelf waiting…

Abundance, flow, reciprocity, using, gifting … These ideas are not new. They resonate deep within as the truth of who we are, who I am. They point to possibilities some of which are emerging worldwide.

This, I think, is foundational to a level of consciousness needed to grapple with the issues of our time. Perhaps a part of Einstein’s admonition that we cannot solve our problems with the same thinking that created them.

Then I wonder ‘what needs to shift in my thinking, my being, and my habits of doing?’ so that I more fully align with what I say I believe? What habits of choice do I hold and follow that are of the systems of scarcity? As I pose these questions to self, I do so in hopes that only remnants remail. Yet I know our systems have imbedded their ways, their thinking in us, in me to keep the lie of scarcity alive: ‘there isn’t enough, hang on to what you have’.

And so, I pack and store, having on some level bought into the lie of scarcity. Yet I hold a knowing that this is one of the ways of the past that is in hospice, moving toward laying to rest so that new ways can emerge, be nurtured. How that will look in this life I’ve created and in the world beyond is ours to determine, ours to co-create. May we do so in harmony with one another and with dear Gaia, Mother Nature, our home.

Mossy Love in the Woods Out Back

Pivot to Wonderment

Fuzzy Mountain Moonrise

Wonder enlarges the heart. When you wonder, you are drawn out of yourself. The cage of the ego and the railtracks of purpose no longer hold you prisoner. Wonder creates a lyrical space where thought and feeling take leave of their repetitive patterns, to regain their original impulse of reverence before the mystery of what is. John O’Donohue (Wonder Awakens Us to the Magic of the World – essay in Eternal Echoes: Exploring Our Hunger to Belong).

Oh, what deep appreciation I have for the places O’Donohue explores, allowing us to join him through the legacy of his poetic, heart-felt words. Wonderment, that comforting (for me) state of awed admiration and respect, is what spending time with the writings of this man of the soul evokes. I’m reminded always to be present to whatever is in front of me. And, to wonder.

Wonderment seems to follow wonder. Not in a logical, sequential way, but rather as a doorway. Without wondering, without engaging my curious self, whether I’m looking out at the world or journeying within, the absence of wonder separates me from the sheer joy of wonderment, of life.

I’m reminded of yesterday’s conversation with a friend as we drove past a herd of yak on the Chok-u-rei Ranch here in the valley. My friend observes that some of these magnificent creatures stand close to one another as they graze. She wonders ‘what do they talk about in their closeness?’ I scan the herd looking for the youngsters and wonder at their playful romping, chasing one another before returning to their munching.

It is wonder that gifts us with the presence to notice the herd on this route we’ve each travelled hundreds of times over the years. The regenerative soil practicing ranch spans the only road from our community to the main highway, a 12-mile road through the flat valley floor that without a sense of wonder could be (and admittedly sometimes is) a blur.

Coming back from our journey we drive toward the mountains and quietly share our wonder at how their appearance shifts with various angles of light. Soon the moon, just past its fullness and being eclipsed by Mother Earth, will rise over the Sangres, offering another spectacle inviting wonderment of this place.

The wind blows strong and steady as I write this morning. I turn my wonder within as I aim to remember to do when weather is not to my liking. How might I embrace the wind as an element of the greater winds of change blowing all around in this cycle of time? Surely this element of air and its time of rapid movement has purpose in the ebb and flow of life. What might it be blowing out? What is the wind ushering in?

This seemingly simple flow of words eases the dread I was beginning to feel about the morning walk with Zadie Byrd. Embracing wind for what it is – a necessary element of Nature, unseen yet powerful – eases my need to ‘brace’ for stepping outside.

Muse nods with a smile, acknowledging my pivot, shifting from my early morning look at election returns to see if the unexpectedly tight race in my Congressional district has been called (it hasn’t – hope springs eternal!) to turning within to discover what wants to be shared in this weekly sacred space.

It occurs to me on this morning after midterm elections here in the U.S. that pivoting to wonderment offers a pathway for bridging the vast gaps that divide us. How might we shift from disdain, disagreement, ‘my way is the only way’ thinking and ways of being to genuine, heart-felt wonder about one another? How might we see that indeed there is no ‘other’, just the One. How might I?

I’m grateful for those engaged in the political, policy, and governance realms who are working towards bridging these divides. I’m grateful too for the wonder and beauty of Nature that surrounds and informs me in Her way. As the winds grow stronger this day, I’m reminded that wonderment is a path to embracing all of life even, perhaps especially, the wind.

Cottonwood Creek - Leaves Fallen, Ice to Come

Nurturing Compassion

A Road Less Travelled - No Speedsters and Dust Here

Be kind and forgiving to everything and everyone, including yourself, at all times without exception. Dr. David R. Hawkins (Power vs. Force)

One morning earlier this week as I sat by a warming fire in the pre-dawn quiet, a single word eased into my awareness:  compassion.

Wondering if Muse was aiming for an early start on the blog, I was curious that nothing framed the word. No question. No thought about it. No instruction or idea that I ‘should’ feel compassion for someone or something. Simply the word, compassion.

As I sat with the word for a bit, I began to wonder how compassion feels in the body. Putting attention on my heart, I began to imagine each breath coming from my heart. I frequently practice this heart coherence breathing, summoning feelings of gratitude, appreciation, care, each of which generate their own sense of peace, calm, and inner warmth.

Mind (‘not to be confused with me’, chimes in Muse) said ‘surely compassion should feel like these.’ But no feeling came. Nothing good or bad. Just emptiness, an opening for discovery.

On our morning walk a short while later, I was (‘yet again!’ chimes in Muse once more) triggered by someone speeding along the dirt road, kicking up clouds of dust. Guiding Zadie Byrd and myself off the road, I released my automatic outburst – a ‘what’s your rush? snarl’, then admonished myself for not being more patient. Done with that, we continued our walk, my attention on Zadie Byrd and the morning’s exquisite autumn beauty.

But awareness of my habitual reaction didn’t fade as such incidents usually do. Perhaps ‘compassion’ had something to say… (‘Ya think?’ says Muse whose humor is in high gear today.)

‘Just what is compassion?’, I wondered settling in to explore. Merriam-Webster tells me that compassion is sympathetic consciousness (awareness) of others’ distress with a desire to alleviate it (“Compassion.” Merriam-Webster.com Dictionary, Merriam-Webster, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/compassion.).

Exploring further I learned that compassion is a 14th century word that shares some of its etymology with the word ‘patient’. Hmmm…patience as an element of compassion. ‘Now we’re getting to it,’ Muse suggests: a path to nurturing compassion, to inviting her to live more fully in and express through me.

Compassion beyond the shared sense of concern for a friend’s health or wellbeing. Compassion beyond the care that comes forth when someone close is grieving a loss. Compassion beyond caring for those in the path of war, violence, poverty, and social injustice. These are the places we are likely to feel compassion even when we don’t see the ‘how’ of alleviating the distress we witness. Compassion that flows so naturally that perhaps I take it for granted, assuming that I truly know enough to care.

As I write this, I feel the superficiality that may sometimes rest in my so-called compassion. I’m challenged to look beyond, to explore compassion (or its absence) in those domains where I find myself annoyed, impatient. Compassion for those with whom I disagree. How can compassion coexist with our differences? How does judgement get in the way of true compassion?

For isn’t this the ultimate nature of Oneness, of living in the nonduality that is the true nature of our Being? Of the Universe? And wouldn’t living in and from THAT reality generate the kind of world we would choose to live in?

Like gratitude and other higher states of being, compassion strengthens from nurturing over time with the practice of principles such as this suggested by Dr. David R. Hawkins in his seminal book Power vs. Force:

Be kind and forgiving to everything and everyone, including yourself, at all times without exception.

Thinking back to the speeding motorist and other ‘annoyances’, I’m reminded of these words from His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama:

A truly compassionate attitude toward others does not change even if they behave negatively or hurt you.

As I prepare for an afternoon walk, I’m guessing that I’ll have the opportunity to practice calling forth a truly compassionate attitude.

Webs of Life in the Woods Out Back

BEING: The Work Within

Fall Beauty in the Neighborhood

Our greatest contributions to life are not found in what we do, but rather in who and how we BE in the walk of our doing.

I feel winter slowing creeping in here in the Sangres. Cooler temperatures brought the turning of leaves, some now beginning to let go and make their way to the ground in gentle autumn breezes. The season’s first freezing temperature was felt this week. The abundant harvests of summer fruits and vegetables shifts to the harvests of fall: apples, potatoes, winter squash, the makings of warm, nourishing soups.

Although I begin to feel the pull within to the slow, quiet, inward time that winter brings, there are tasks to complete before winter weather settles in. She’s only flirting with us now, gently reminding me that it is time for the baskets of geraniums to be tended and prepared to come inside and for the kindling box to be filled. There are shutters to paint and reinstall and winter supplies to be purchased and stored. Yes, there are tasks to do.

Sidelined from those tasks for several days last week, my energy was redirected to healing a shoulder that called for my attention using the language of pain. As I engaged in the process my first actions were directed toward relief, then to correcting whatever was out of alignment and opening the flow of any blocked energy.

I felt deep gratitude for the Chinese herbs I have on hand and for the local healing professionals who worked me into their schedules. As the pain eased energy was freed up to engage curiosity. I’d noticed a pattern – same pain, same time last year. Hmm…what might I need to see, to explore, to understand? In the questioning I was opened to an exploration of old ancestral habits and patterns of the women in my lineage – mother, grandmothers, great grands, and beyond. The insights brought some understanding and a desire to more deeply explore. That will be part of my winter’s ‘work’.

Right on time the information found its way to me and Muse to support the process. Cycles cycle in just that way when I am open, observant, curious, and allow them to emerge. I was reminded yet again of the importance of tending to who and how I BE in the process of doing whatever is before me. Muse suggests that the choices of Being are ultimately far more important that what we choose to do.

The work of Being is an inside job that reflects wide and deep into the world. I was reminded of this by the words I read last night shortly before making my way to dreamtime, words from a book that I pulled off the shelf as the result of a conversation earlier this week. Curiosity, synchronicity, allowing, cycles, life.

The outer work can never be small

if the inner work is great.

And the outer work can never be great

if the inner work is small.

Meister Eckhart 

Our world – humanity and our precious planet home – need the best of our Being now. We need to not simply understand, but to know and live the interconnectedness, the Oneness of all that is. I’ll be tuning in to several sessions of Humanity’s Team’s 2022 Global Oneness Summit, Birthing a New World. Because indeed we are birthing a new world and her nature will be determined by who we BE. https://www.humanitysteam.org/Global-Oneness-Summit

And Beauty in the Mountains

A World of Peace. A World of Gratitude. A World of Harmony.

Grateful for the Peace and Harmony of Mountain Mornings

It’s up to us to create the more beautiful world we want to live in.

The today is the International Day of Peace established in 1981 by the United Nations General Assembly. Today is also World Gratitude Day, an idea birthed at a Thanksgiving Day dinner in the meditation room of the United Nations building (yes, there is a meditation room in the place where world leaders and representatives gather) by Spiritual leader Sri Chinmoy suggesting that there be a day of thanks the whole world could celebrate together. And today is the eve of the Autumnal Equinox.

A trifecta of opportunity to be grateful and express our gratitude, to create peace within and be that peace as we walk in the world, and to consider what this day of balance when light and dark are equal holds as summer fades and autumn steps forth. A day to consider that it is ‘we’, individually and collectively, who are creating the future and to reflect upon our vision for that more beautiful world.

It’s cloudy here as I wake before dawn, the waning crescent moon visible for a moment as clouds move about. Fall is in the air. Crisp mornings. The first hint of changing leaves a appears high in the mountain aspen groves, the promise of that beauty soon to behold and a signal to begin in earnest preparing for winter.

Muse smiles, sensing my urge to ‘get going’, a smile that gently reminds me of how I want to walk this labyrinth of life: at peace in a world of peace, with awareness and expression of a grateful heart, in harmony with all of life.

I hold this not as a goal to achieve, but as a contribution to, as Charles Eisenstein says, “the more beautiful world our hearts know is possible.

And so, I’m drawn to acknowledge and share days and events such as this that can grow to become wholly days for all of humanity. Days for recognition and for reset. Acknowledging the potentiality in each of us for peace, gratitude, harmony. Adjusting course to align with that potentiality. Each in our way for there is no ‘one size fits all’ formal that so many desperately try to find or create. Everyone has their story; we are all different, we are all the same.

As I go about the tasks of this day, I do so with awareness that days like this offer up the opportunity to heal separation and become whole, indeed, to live into the wholeness that is the truth of this world and the world beyond. Having experience the power of gratitude up close and personal over many years as a part of my personal practices, I’ll be watching the world premiere of Louie Schwartzberg’s new film Gratitude Revealed with a grateful heart and vision of all that IS possible in our world.

How will celebrate the wholly holiness of this day?

And Abundant Pine Nuts to Harvest

From Conflict Arises Beauty: Everything is Music

Sunflowers, Sun, Trees, Sky - Beauty Abounds in the Woods Out Back

The mystery of music is its uncanny ability to coax harmony out of contradiction and chaos. Often the beauty of great music is a beauty born from the rasp of chaos. The confidence of creativity knows that deep conflict often yields the most interesting harmony and order. John O’Donohue (Beauty: The Invisible Embrace)

We have fallen into the place where everything is music. Rumi

As I read O’Donohue’s essay on music one recent morning I felt a gentle nudge, a Muse reminder of the beauty in life that can arise from conflict. O’Donohue’s words typically carry me and open possibilities far beyond his topic. No exception to that found in these words.

I thought of conflicts past when I was less conscious than (hopefully) I am today and felt gratitude for the beauty in my life that has risen like a phoenix from ashes of the past or any other such mythical tale. I see threads of beauty throughout the journey in the choices, effort, angst, allowing, letting go, holding on. You know, life.

I reflect that although I didn’t consciously set out to create this sacred sanctuary in the woods of the Rocky Mountains, step by step the Dragonfly House emerged from a conflict that has roots in the events of September 11, 2001. Five years passed before I moved to Colorado and another seven before I landed in this spot. Twenty plus years (perhaps I’m more patient than I thought) and still evolving at its pace through ‘chaos and contradiction’, confusion, uncertainty, even fear. Fueled along the way by Nature, beauty, care, love, joy, friends, beloved canines, to name a few.

This perspective offers me context for a current conflict that has me engaged and curious (after going through a brief stage of rage and furious). Navigating what has become a challenging working relationship, I’m in the question of how to participate in a way that creates beauty. Beauty in the collaborative relationship as well as in the fruits of that labor. What music wants to rise from what is currently ‘raspy chaos’? How do I conduct myself to bring beauty into both?

Beyond the human defined bounds of the dot on the planet that I’m blessed to occupy, what beauty wants to rise in humanity? In Nature? What if we would hold greater intention to create music and beauty in all of life? What pivots and new scaffolding would call such beautiful music forward in us, for us and for Mother Earth?

Muse smiles at my leap from me to we, acknowledging my care for our world while gently guiding me back to the choices before me to make and the actions I need to take right here in this micro-climate that is home. In them is my power to create beauty here that extends to the world beyond. Music indeed.

Writing complete as day began to dawn, I closed my journal and looked out into the woods, discovering a large black bear ambling through the landscape 50 feet or so from the house. When it ambled out of sight, curiosity led me to read up on the spiritual meaning of bear: Awakening the Power of the Unconscious. Feel free to amble through any time Bear …  Did someone say ‘music’?

Bear in the Woods

Reminiscing As Year 10 Begins

Morning Clouds Bring Beauty & the Possibility of Blessed Rain

Speak what you think today in hard words, and tomorrow speak what tomorrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict every thing you said today.  Ralph Waldo Emerson

So began The Success Zone 15 August 2013. I described my intention for weekly posts as “an eclectic place for your personal success!”. I don’t recall precisely what prompted me to use these particular words from Emerson, but I do know that they hold true for me today: what I think (feel, sense, know, etc.) and say today may not be what I think (feel, sense, know, etc.) and say tomorrow.

For indeed we change as does the world we navigate, those humans with whom we share our planet home, Gaia herself, and the cosmos in its entirety. Moment to moment. Day to day. Year to year. Lifetime to lifetime.

When I started the weekly blog, I was steeped in the growing profession of coaching, (re)building a coaching business and finding/creating my place, my purpose, my role(s) in life. Today, no longer in the business of coaching, I aim to bring the best of my coaching presence and skills into life and (with support from Muse) to these weekly musings. Today I recognize and accept more deeply that finding/creating place, purpose, role(s) in life is a journey, not a goal or a destination and that success is a matter of satisfaction, contribution, and fulfillment more than of money or acquiring more ‘stuff’.

Place, purpose, role(s) pivot with new circumstances, new knowledge, and insights. Awareness, agility, and adaptability are skills to strengthen. New thinking that leads us to personal and collective pivots is the order of the day (and, likely, for many tomorrows).

Who among has not made significant pivots in the last nine years? Who among us has not rethought and pivoted again as life conditions change and as heart and soul tap our being and point us to new possibilities or a new way? Who among us is the same today as we were then (or, heck, even yesterday)?

Certainly not moi. In the early days of the pandemic, The Zone pivoted to become The Pivot (120 weeks ago – if you be counting). A change in name and focus had been bubbling in me for some time. Clarity came as I saw the need to make changes in my own thinking, my beliefs, my habits and as I witnessed the Earth’s responses to our collective global pause. For me it was the beginning of reexamining EVERYthing, of exploring wider avenues of thought and possibility, and of seeking out those people, places, and pockets that are building the new, a process that’s likely to happily engage me for the duration of this lifetime.

In sharing my engagement, discoveries, and curiosities I aim to offer introspection, inspiration, insights, intelligence, and information for your journey of discovering and navigating your own pivot points. As Muse reminds, surely much change is afoot. Perhaps some wisdom will emerge along the way.

As it was in the beginning, The Pivot will continue to be eclectic. My curiosity runs both wide and deep. And one belief that isn’t likely to shift is that ‘one size does NOT fit all’. Likewise, The Pivot continues to support individually and collectively reclaiming personal power as a right and a responsibility and seeks to challenge your thinking and mine.

As it always has been, there is rarely an ‘editorial plan or calendar’ for what will come. The Pivot emerges weekly in response to the promptings – internal and external – of life and to (mostly) gentle nudging from Muse.

I (WE! – suggests Muse) aim to bring more beauty to light and life. Beauty not just of the visual sort, although certainly I’m steeped in the natural beauty of place (and not likely to pivot away from sharing that), but beauty of the heart, the soul, the spirt of life. Beauty that is of sight, sound, and all our senses. Perhaps beauty that is beyond our senses, yet ever present when we are open to receive.

A deep bow of gratitude to you for being with us on the journey and some beautiful words to remember as we engage in the days ahead.

Being here is so much. Rainer Maria Rilke

The human mind is in itself a world with huge mountains, deep valleys, and forests of the unknown. John O’Donohue

Morning Moonset over the San Luis Valley