The Next Small Step

What happens when you start imagining what you can do and not what you can't? What happens when you do the next small thing instead of focusing on saving the world? What happens when you focus on simplicity rather than complexity? When you follow your heart rather than the world's suggestions? What happens? Simply? - Things begin to change.

Do you want change? Do I want change? Am I open to possibilities beyond my wildest imagination? Am I willing to tread on the ground of an amazing God? Will I take off my shoes because I am standing on holy ground? Even in this moment as I sit and write, the themes of my life swirl around me as I respond and answer Yes, Yes Yes! I am willing to step in AND it can be terrifying.

I've been participating in a weekly exercise called "This week, I will..." The first step being to name my weekly intention. As I sat quietly and journaled, I found "focus on the next small step" to be my intention for this week. It's a harder thing to do than one might think. I find myself easily coming up with the next step, but then quickly wanting to move to the one beyond. So, I reign myself in, slow down and do the smallest step right before me. This morning my step was to clear out my office baskets and file them into my new filing cabinet. Simple, easy and satisfying. This step was followed by going to today's reading from Mark Nepo. Here are the opening words:

"Walker, there is no path, you make the path as you walk." --Antonio Machado

The reading went on to discuss how we are constantly taking first steps and how stepping too far into the future can make us stumble like a toddler who suddenly realizes she's walking on her own momentum or a child learning to ride a bike once the parent lets go. We peddle along content in the trajectory of the present moment until we jolt ourselves into the future by realizing everything that must be done or hasn't been done or should get done...

AND so I choose the only thing I can do. I return to the present. I focus on the next small thing. I take a deep breath. I slow down and step into the holy ground of my heart. As I listen to my body, it confirms my longing. It offers the next step. It opens me up to possibility. It offers me completion and satisfaction, because you know what? I can always do the next small thing - and if that seems too overwhelming, then I back off and make it a little smaller. This reminds me of the powerful knowledge I learned a few years ago when reading The Four Agreements - One of the agreements is "Always do your best." It was incredibly freeing for me to acknowledge sometimes my "best" means staying right where I am - perhaps pulling the covers back over my head and doing only the most basic thing like breathing. So...

What happens when you focus on the next small thing instead of trying to save the world - or your family - or yourself? What happens when you focus on simplicity instead of complexity? What does the next small step look like? I invite you to consider the possibilities of creating the path as you walk. Where do you dream it will go?

shilshole crow © lucy 7.10

Simplicity

“Simplicity is the seedbed for sane, free, illumined holy living.” Tilden Edwards

In the stillness I return to God. The busyness of the last five days settles into my body like a workout followed by Savasana . They say it is in corpse pose that the benefits of the practice come. Returning to stillness, I am regenerated. Listening to my body, I know it needs rest today. Will I pull out of the quiet and press forward or can I rest here in the simplicity of my bed – rejuvenating?

I ponder the complexity of my simple existence. Eating when hungry. Stopping when full. Resting when tired. Moving when restless. Going when called. The practices of my life. Focusing on here and now. The garbage truck rumbling outside my window. Aslan purring against my chest. Pen flowing across paper. My heart beats inside my chest. Coffee flavors the walls of my mouth.

Here and now is all I have. This perfect, simple moment is enough. My stomach growls. The kitty hiccups. My head has a slight twinge of ache. I pause - slowing down to the minuscule of the moment. Operating at the speed of breath. Entering into holy living.

Care to join me?

photo from Bainbridge Ferry 7.15.10

Notes of My Song

"When a pianist learns a new piece of music, he or she does not sit down and instantly play it perfectly... It may all seem disconnected. It may not sound like a harmonious, beautiful piece of music - just isolated notes... Then one day, something happens. What we have been working toward, note by note, becomes a song. That song is a whole life, a complete life, a life in harmony." Melody Beattie

It seems as though I'm always practicing something - yoga - mindfulness - counseling skills - artistic endeavors - being a better wife, mother, friend. So, I loved when I read Beattie's quote this morning. It rang so true to me as I realize I'm practicing the parts of my life to come fully into the whole song that is me.

Now, don't get me wrong, I fully believe I'm already whole (as are you) AND I like to consider myself an unfinished woman which gives me opportunity to keep discovering new things along the way. This was a pivotal awareness in my journey with God. Once I realized I didn't have or never could figure everything out, it led me to a new place of curiosity and adventure. It really keeps things exciting and full of surprise as I discover the notes God has written in my song of discovery - about each of us, God - you - me. There's always more to discover and practice.

I began this post thinking I would fill you in on my latest practice, but I think I'll save that for another day. This feels like plenty to ponder on this sacred Sunday. So...

Have you ever considered the parts of your life as notes in a song? Some flow melodically and others seem like flats and sharps or clashing symbols. Do you have a current practice that's helping you create your best composition possible? Or do you let your fingers lay flat on the keys hoping the music will come without your input? Ponder alongside me, will you?

Blessings to you today. Thanks for stopping by!!

"The music will come together in our life if we keep practicing the parts." Melody Beattie

photo - lucy 'practicing' surfing - maui, 2010

Stalking Crows

“Wherever crows are, there is magic. They are symbols of creation and spiritual strength. They remind us to look for opportunities to create and manifest the magic of life. They are messengers calling to us about the creation and magic that is alive within our world everyday and available to us.” Ted Andrews

While outwardly there has been silence at Diamonds, inwardly and physically the coffers have been full – abundant even. It’s hard to even know where to begin. For those who are first time readers, you may find this a little outside the boundaries of your own personal comfort. Longtime and loyal followers, I hope will remember the groundedness and magic that is Me, Lucy ☺.

Crows have been stalking me. No kidding. You may recall a few weeks ago, the crow who swooped down and whacked me on the shoulder – twice! – while I was strolling home from yoga enjoying my morning latte. The significance of the event was easily dismissed as a protective mother crow whose hatchlings I was evidently threatening. Fair enough and most likely true. But why me? Why then? It’s never happened before and believe me I live around LOTS of crows.

Over the past week or so, crow feathers have been dropping in my path. Again, not so unusual perhaps, but they literally have been found directly between my back door and my car – three times. Like the whacking on the shoulder, to my recollection this has never happened before.

Before continuing, I probably should add here that only days before the first crow encounter, while preparing for a presentation on the Archetypes, I took a quiz designed to rate how the major archetypes show up in my personality. My number 1 score (by a landslide)... The Magician. So… you know the vestiges of my traditional, fundamental Christian upbringing start to squirm here. Nevertheless as I read about this archetype, I felt as though I were reading my own diaries. Still… I tried to dismiss the “coincidences,” until this morning when I began to journal.

A crow followed me yesterday. I swear it did. Heading out for my morning walk/jog, she started squawking at me and I thought there might be a repeat of the shoulder whacking. I tried to ignore her, but she followed me along the telephone wire above my head.

“Magic,” she cawed.
“You can’t run from it. I know. I know,” she cried.
“I see you.”
Every 20 feet or so she moved to keep up my pace for almost a block.
“Magic. You are magic.”

So, have I totally lost it this time? No. I don’t think so. This morning during my quiet time, I felt the magic as Pavarotti washed over me. I lit candles for the earth and wept tears for the gulf tragedy. Raising my arms, I spread them toward the southeast. Energy flowed from my body and as I offered the earth my condolences, I envisioned clarity and peace. Faces flowed through my mind and moments of presence to all of creation surfaced.

“Magic. Magic,” the crow cawed. “Presence is magic.”

My life is turning into one ongoing practice of presence to self – food – earth – others. While there is much more to this story, today I shall end with the following quote and ask: Where is the magic in your life? Does it come through presence? Can you allow yourself to be open to that which makes no objective sense? Will you allow yourself to experience the magic of the sacred?

“To the Magician, the sacred is not seen as above us, judging us, but as immanent in ourselves, nature, society, the earth, the cosmos.” Carol S. Pearson

photo - two crows by katherine treffinger
This piece of art hangs in my living room and was purchased for my husband on Father's Day 2009.

Savor

Savor - to give oneself to the enjoyment of

When's the last time you truly savored something? For me it was only moments ago, and in order to savor just a bit longer, I choose to share my experience here.

Who knew a tiny, minuscule bit of French truffle could provide such delight? Tres magnifique! This savor thing is pretty awesome if you haven't tried it. The word came to me this year through Sunrise Sis, and another wise woman is teaching me how to indulge with grace and intention. To savor - if you will.

While I am not your typical chocolate-craving woman, I find myself occasionally yearning for a taste of the delectable delight. Tonight following a lovely, light dinner of baked chicken with ginger-pepper sauce, assorted brown rice and fresh mixed greens with baby heirloom tomatoes, blackberries and blue cheese, my taste buds said, "Thank you & one more thing... Chocolate, please." Since this isn't a normal request at our house, I considered my alternatives - diving into a past expiration bag of Tollhouse semi-sweet chips or the never-satisfying unsweetened Baker's chocolate. Neither would suffice. Fortunately at the opportune moment, my husband rose to go pick up our daughter and I realized I could pass the request onto him, "Chocolate truffles, please - Trader Joe's." He looked at me like, Really? Are you serious? But then he saw my face and decided no response was necessary. He's a good man.

To give oneself to the enjoyment of something, one must be fully present. So it was to be. I turned my training in presence over to this tiny sensual piece of dusted decadence placed on a hand-picked cocktail napkin, & pared with a perfect cup of steaming decaf. Norah Jones gently wafted from the stereo. Candles glowed in the frosted crystal cup. Day waned. Taste buds readied. Ready. Set. Savor. One quarter-sized treat delivered more than half a dozen bites of heaven. Need I say more?

And so we return from whence we began: When's the last time you truly savored something? I highly recommend it!!

'African daisies' savored at the Walla Walla Farmer's Market