Instead of asking you what you desire, I want to ask something I think is more fundamental and more vital: What are you creating?
Imagine this: You’re in your house, watching angry floodwaters rise relentlessly toward you. What are you thinking? What are you feeling? What will you do?
Now imagine this: The water’s still rising, only now you’re standing in a line of people at the end of your street, filling and stacking sandbags to build a levee. What are you thinking? What are you feeling? What will you do?
How are the two experiences different? Why are they different? In both scenarios it’s still raining. Please add a comment. I would love to hear about what you see in this.
Bob and I have an adventure
Last month I had a day when I was feeling pretty depressed. I was exhausted and achy with migraine symptoms. Work was slow and I was worried about how I was going to pay the bills. Despair and shame were creeping up on me.
In the late afternoon I decided to go for a short walk. Turning the corner, I saw my neighbor, Bob, and I almost turned around before he could see me. Having an encounter seemed like adding weight to the load I was carrying.
Bob is in his 70s, hobbles due to painful bursitis in his hips, and often seems a bit foggy. He knows he knows me, but admits he’s often not sure how. He frequently asks me the same question several times in the course of a conversation. I like Bob, but, frankly, I sometimes try to sneak by him when I’m not in the mood to talk.
This time, he glanced up and saw me. Caught! His face lit up with childlike delight. You would have thought I was Santa and the Easter Bunny combined. “Oh, what the hell,” I thought.
When I reached him, Bob asked if he could hold onto my arm and walk with me a little bit. I said, “That’s fine,” and we shuffled along together. I had to concentrate to walk slow enough to keep his pace. As he will, Bob asked me where I was from several times over the course of as many minutes and kept apologizing for delaying me.
Here’s the funny thing: it wasn’t an imposition to help Bob. I liked the feeling of his trust in me. How my steadiness helped facilitate his walk down the street. How my genuine interest in him was reflected back in appreciation and affection. I usually don’t like to be touched by people I don’t know well, but I liked the feeling of his hand on my arm. Most of all, I liked the feeling of our being in this together.
Bob turned back about a block from his house and I continued on after he assurred me he was fine getting back on his own. He left me feeling stronger, more confident, and more willing to return home and tackle my own challenges. It was almost as if he had said, “Gene looks like he’s having a hard time. I think I’ll go lean on him so he can remember who he really is.” Thanks, Bob!
When I give myself to the world, I am reminded of all that I have. My special qualities are "gifts" to me and to everyone I share them with.
I believe we are all artists. Every day we wake up and shape our world.
What will you create today?
Wild Life monthly practice group
Saturday, April 18 • 1:00–3:00 PM
How do you create a sense of energy, connection and possibility in an unstable world?
How can you redirect habitual thoughts of "lack and attack" that seek to limit you?
How can you create a life you are excited to wake up to every day?
In this month's mini-workshop we will explore simple, practical techniques for keeping our balance and increasing the likelihood of both enjoying what we have and getting more of what we want out of life.
Specific topics will include:
- getting clear about the feelings that are the "goal behind the goal" of what you desire
- using the energy of fear in the service of constructive action
- focusing your awareness to keep you moving toward your goals
- cultivating generosity, gratitude, and purpose
Please go to www.meetup.com/WildLife for more details. There is no cost to join the group.
E-mail me if you have any questions. I look forward to seeing you.
Be good to yourself!
Life & Wellness Coach
Life Turned On™
Create an amazing life!
Copyright 2008 Eugene Y. Smith, III. All rights reserved.