opportunity – Jenn Sheridan

Visioning

Your vision will become clear only when you can look into your own heart. Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes. ~ Carl Jung

I am getting excited as I prepare to help facilitate a visioning workshop next weekend. I’m not big on New Year’s resolutions — they are far too easily discarded as life throws its incessant curve balls at you. Instead, I am a big believer in creating a vision for where you want to go in life, revisiting it from time to time to make sure it still resonates, but mostly just living life with that vision in mind.

In order to create a vision, you need to listen to your own inner wisdom. The first time I was introduced to the concept of visioning, I was led through a guided meditation that started by stilling the chatter of my mind so I could really connect with my divine wisdom, and then that wisdom showed me images of what me living my life fully really looked like. I have since gone through a variety of visioning exercises, but I think those two core components are always present — getting still enough to listen, and then allowing the vision to unfold, almost like it is being unveiled to you. As a result of this kind of process, you may see yourself living a life you haven’t even thought to dream of, and yet somehow it just feels right, it feels like it matches who you are and what you want in life.

So how does visioning differ from dreaming about where you want to be? The major key here that I see is that when you dream, there is a wistful feeling about it. As Carl Jung says, that dream lies outside of you, which I think makes it feel unattainable because you don’t wholly own it. When you create a vision, it resonates with you because it comes from within. It may feel like a huge stretch from where you find yourself in this moment, but you can visualize yourself living that life, perhaps because on some level you already have it.

Visioning can provide you a big picture vision for your life, but it can also be a powerful tool for the short-term. I like to do at least one visioning exercise each year — it helps me to see if my big-picture vision still resonates and helps me to visualize what steps I can take in the near future to move in the direction of my vision. One of my favorite tools in this process is the Vision Board, which is a large part of our upcoming workshop. I display my annual Vision Board prominently so that I can always look at it — sometimes it’s for inspiration, sometimes it’s a reminder, and sometimes it just feels good, like a warm and fuzzy hug to wrap myself up in. It is a snapshot of my current trajectory — a mixture of where I am today and where I see myself going from here, all the good stuff that I want to focus on and attract more of into my life. Last year’s Vision Board is covered in green — lots of plants and vegetables and trees and arbors. I didn’t know it at the time, but it turned out to be a year full of growing and gardening, with visits to farms in addition to my first vegetable garden, lots of wandering in the woods, and ultimately the purchase of a home with beautiful trees surrounding it and even a green lawn.

So how does visioning differ from goal setting? I guess my question in return would be, where are you getting those goals from? If you dream of having a large house with a sports car and a slim figure, your goals will likely be about achieving some steps in the direction of those dreams. The problem is that when the dream feels unattainable, on some level that feeling taints the associated goals as well, making it easy to throw your hands up and make excuses for why you cannot achieve your goals. So yes, visioning differs from goal setting, but once you have a vision it can be easier to set goals that come up out of that vision for your life, baby steps on the way towards living that vision. The goals become a bridge from where you are today towards where you want to be.

I remember how startled I was when that first visioning process showed me as the mother of two children. Up until that point I had been decidedly anti-children. I was so shocked that the first “goal” I had was to really look at why I thought I didn’t want children and to allow myself to consider what it would be like to be a mum, trying it on like a hat to see if it fit. That process uncovered a lot of stuff for me, old beliefs that weren’t serving me anymore that once released allowed me to be more open to many possibilities available to me that I had previously shut myself off from. Once I opened myself up to this idea of having kids, it kind of had a life of its own, it flowed without my having to do a whole lot to make it happen. To me, that’s a sign that where you are headed is in alignment with who you are. When life is constantly throwing up obstacles to your path, that’s a good time to ask yourself if it’s truly a path you need to be on.

The beauty of the vision is that it becomes your “true north” for your compass — now you have something to set your sights on, something to point yourself toward. But it isn’t a list to check off — the things you will have and/or accomplish by a certain date. Life may take you to a variety of different places along the route to your vision, but these stops along the way are really just steps that are bringing you closer to that vision whether it is obvious to you or not. Almost by accident, my vision is coming into fruition in unexpected ways. It isn’t unfolding anywhere near like I had imagined it would, perhaps mostly because originally I had no idea how on earth I was going to get from “here” to “there.” At some point along the way I realized that I’m already “there” — the details are still evolving, but the foundation has been laid and the construction is underway. It’s a work in progress, but oh my, what a journey. I find myself grateful for this path and for all the manifestations along the way, from tomatoes in the garden to my beautiful boys. Life is good. Namaste.

Photo: juliustrum – last steps to the light by Till Krech

Do you really mean it?

You know that feeling when life grants you a wish, and everything feels like it’s falling into place for a while? It’s such a delicious feeling, with joy and love and a sense of fulfillment blossoming in your heart. It’s like you have the ultimate green thumb, and everything you touch flourishes. I don’t know about you, but for me, I always have this sense of relief, like I’ve finally gotten it, like I’ve arrived. Ah, such sweetness.

And then the next week, or day, or hour even, Something Happens. It might be small–a stubbed toe–or perhaps seem ginormous and overwhelming–a broken leg or, ahem, a pinched nerve. It might appear that life is throwing a curve ball–a reorg at the office–or perhaps it looks like a thrown game–a layoff or a car accident. Whatever it is, it feels completely out of the blue, completely at odds with the sweetness, completely disorienting.

You might think that these situations were created from completely different places, from drastically different energies. One is obviously creative while the other is obviously destructive, yes? Total mixed messages, right? Probably not. In my experience, 9 times out of 10–at least!– they are two sides of the same coin, the exact same delicious, creative energies just showing up in different ways.

This is what I call the Do-You-Really-Mean-Its. You’ve set your intention, aligned with your source, manifested your desires, and it is wonderful. But do you really mean it? Are you already beginning to slip back into old patterns of self-doubt, or perhaps making excuses for why you can’t really do all of those things you were all excited to tackle just yesterday? Or maybe it’s you who have been sending out the mixed messages, setting an intention one day and its opposite the next? And so, in order to clarify what it is you really are looking for in this life, the universe gives you a slightly different reflection of what it is you’ve been desiring.

You might be thinking, “Slightly different? Seriously? But I just got laid off!!” Well yes, to the infinite nature of the universe, that *is* slightly different. You asked for work that was in greater alignment with your spirit, right? Well, step the first was to release the old work that was no longer a match for you. (I’ve always loved being laid off for exactly this reason, so grateful to have the space necessary for me to let go of the old and embrace the new.)

This week my challenge has been to learn how to embrace the pinched nerve in my back. At first I was filled with despair–hadn’t I *just* been writing about how I was moving away from the overwhelm of physical pain? Way to knock the wind out of my sails! But then I remembered to take a deep breath and look this experience straight in the eye, and I saw it for what it really was, a Do-You-Really-Mean-It. I’d been in ostrich-mode for a year and a half, sending out a strong intention of wanting to hole up and avoid life. What better way to do that than to be forced to lie in bed for a few days? The universe was asking me which intention was the real one–to live life vibrantly, fully, and out loud? Or to be an ostrich? When I got that, I was able to answer with a resounding, “Yes, Please! I am ready to be truly LIVING again!” with a little, “Hey, next time, can you find a gentler way to ask?” thrown in for good measure.

Trust me, it ain’t always easy dealing with the Do-You-Really-Mean-Its. In fact, they are almost always challenging. But they are also great opportunities to send out “rockets of desire,” as Abraham would say, truly clarifying your intention within you and for all that vast power of the universe at the same time. This pinched nerve has been my opportunity to shake off my inner ostrich in places I didn’t even realize it was still lingering, and to surrender to the flow of life, allowing the true priorities to make themselves known (did you know that I was one of them? go figure!) in the process. Namaste.

Ostrich-ization

I have a confession to make, something that has been weighing on me for quite some time. I am a bit of a . . . well, no, more than a bit. I am a full-blown, head-in-the-sand OSTRICH. Phew, I said it. What a load off! Wait, what’s that? What does it mean to be an ostrich? Well, it means that when I start to feel overwhelmed with life, I tend to hole up, putting my head in the proverbial sand and allowing myself to look at only what I must to get through the day, the week, or even, I’m embarrassed to admit, the year. Well, that’s not so bad, you might think. Focus is a good survival skill. And yes, in small amounts, it is a truly necessary skill, especially when you have a lot of balls in the air in this busy, busy life. But escapism and avoidance? They cut you off from your source, from love and joy and laughter, and ultimately from living.

The irony here is that ostriching is just about as opposite to my life philosophy as you can get and still be me. See, I am a big believer in self-awareness, consciously looking at myself and where I am and seeing what is keeping me from accomplishing my goals and attaining my dreams. I have invested a lot of time and energy (and I mean A LOT) in personal growth exercises, classes, retreats, etc. over the years, and, as a result, I have, well, grown a lot over the years because of it. I’ve weeded my mental and emotional gardens, exposing and excising all those hidden roots for the dandelion-like issues that always seem to find fertile soil to grow in. I believe in doing a little spring cleaning several times a year, not just in my physical space, but mentally and emotionally to keep exposing any missed roots that might be clogging up my flow. I believe in looking directly at what scares me, looking that fear directly in the face and calling it out for what it is. I believe in feeling the fear and doing it anyway, especially because I know that whatever I feel fear about is life’s way of nudging me towards my next area of self-growth.

So when I pulled my head out of the sand last week, I was astonished to discover that in many respects, I’d been hiding in that fear-based sand for over a year and a half. I’d gotten overwhelmed when my second baby was born (oh yes, that baby who is now 20 months old) and I’d managed to compartmentalize my brain so that things I couldn’t deal with went into a segment that was pretty much a black box, taking stuff in but not allowing things out, so I had fewer things to look at and deal with at any given moment. It is a very effective short-term strategy, but an absolutely abysmal long-term one that can cause mental, emotional, spiritual, and even physical anguish.

I received an email from a friend recently with a story that eloquently describes what happened to me during this time of ostriching:

“A young lady confidently walked around the room while leading and explaining stress management to an audience with a raised glass of water. Everyone knew she was going to ask the ultimate question, ‘half empty or half full?’ She fooled them all: ‘How heavy is this glass of water?’ she inquired with a smile. Answers called out ranged from 8 oz to 20 oz.

She replied, ‘The absolute weight doesn’t matter. It depends on how long I hold it. If I hold it for a minute, that’s not a problem. If I hold it for an hour, I’ll have an ache in my right arm. If I hold it for a day, you’ll have to call an ambulance. In each case it’s the same weight, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes.'”

Those “weights” that I stashed away for another day may have started out light as a feather, but by the time I realized I could not carry them anymore, each one weighed a thousand pounds. The longer I carried such heavy weights, the more I ostracized myself from my source. At different times throughout that year and a half I was filled with anxiety, struggled with depression, experienced physical pain throughout my body (migraines; back and knee pain), struggled with finances, and lived in a mental fog that I couldn’t seem to clear myself of. Every time I found myself in such anguish, I would be baffled by it. I was working hard at creating the life I had been wanting to live, enabling many of my life’s dreams to begin to be fulfilled, but at the end of the day I still felt somewhat numb, only halfway able to experience the joy that came along with it.

And so last week I gave myself the great gift of de-ostrich-izing myself. I lifted my head from the sand and shined a light on what was hiding inside that black box inside my head. I put down all of those thousand-pound weights and restored them to their feathery lightness. I took care of some long overdue tasks, and crossed about a gazillion things off of my to-do list in a flurry of clarity and lightness and energy that I hadn’t felt in a long, long time. The result? In addition to all of the little tangible benefits of “getting stuff done,” I’ve had a return of my ME-ness. I feel more authentic, more at peace, more capable of taking on the world when I need to, and more capable of asking for help when I need to. I am returning to my practice, rewarding myself with my meditation time in the mornings, and sleeping better at night. The creative juices are flowing again and I have ideas bubbling up all over the places, just begging to be birthed out into the world. The numbness is fading, and my deep gratitude for this life I am creating and living is present without my having to work at it.

As I write this, I feel once again the deep sense of relief I experienced last week, along with a renewed sense of awe that I allowed it to go for so long. But I’ve found that’s what happens when you ostracize (or ostrich-ize!) yourself from life — you can no longer hear the messages that life is trying so hard to send you. And so, here I go again, doing my internal spring cleaning, clearing out the weeds in my internal garden, planting new seeds that I hope will shine light when the dark places try to re-emerge, grateful for this opportunity to continue to grow, and grateful for this awareness that has once again pushed me out of my comfort zone and back out into the world to share my stories along this crazy journey called life, my own personal journey of learning to fly. Namaste.

Working mama

The phrase “working mother” is redundant.
~ Jane Sellman

I’ve been back to work officially one month today. I’m not gonna lie, it’s been a rough month. There’s always so much to do and rarely enough hours in the day to scratch the surface, let alone feel like I’m accomplishing anything or getting to spend enough quality time with the boys. But it’s a work in progress, with each new day an opportunity for me to cull out what isn’t working and try something new that might.

What’s working includes focusing on the positives. The first time I went out to lunch with a few coworkers, I was holding a somewhat messy sandwich and I just took a moment to savor being able to eat slow(ish), with both hands. As busy as work can get, if I need to pay a bill, it only takes a minute to write out the check and walk it over to the mail drop — a task (or series of tasks, really — where are those stamps again?) that could have taken most of a morning when I was at home. The regularity of the routine has Spider Boy back to enjoying daycare — when I dropped the boys off yesterday morning he was happily anticipating getting to play with his friends all day — and he is relishing getting to spend more one-on-one time with Grandma again. And Bean has had a developmental boom that I know is due in part to interaction with children at a variety of developmental levels.

What’s working also includes a combination of shifting my perspective and truly staying present to the moment. Most Sundays, I take the boys grocery shopping — what felt like a chore when I was on leave now feels like a fun way for us to spend time together. Spider Boy and I talk and hug our way through the store, and I get to experience how he interacts with the other customers (strangers are most certainly just friends he hasn’t met yet). My husband and I have found new ways to connect with each other, whether it’s talking (hands-free!) on our morning commutes or doing our chores in the same room during naps. Sleep deprivation may leave me fuzzy, but that’s just an opportunity for me to let go of needing to be completely on top of everything, and having Bean wake up to nurse in the night feels like an opportunity for us to snuggle close.

And then there’s the work itself. Returning from maternity leave gives me the opportunity to ask how I want to spend my time. Sure, every job has a series of tasks that need to be accomplished in order to say you’re doing the job. But every job also has an opportunity for you to ask who am *I* in this job and how do I choose to show up? I choose to have my work be an extension of my Work, which means I choose to encourage people to live their lives more fully. When I was asked recently what people in my position do, the words I jotted down were: empowering, facilitating, mentoring, mediating, problem-solving. I would probably also add “healing” in the sense that I try to shine my light of positive opportunity into areas that might otherwise appear dark and see what shifts.

There is always room for improvement. I have my moments of feeling frazzled and emotional and exhausted and wondering how I’m going to get through the next five minutes let alone the rest of the week. But I am taking it one day at a time, taking every day as a practice, taking every moment as a new opportunity. And nothing, but nothing, beats the pure joy that runs through my being when Spider Boy comes running in at the end of the day yelling “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” as he throws himself into my arms, and then watching little Bean’s face light up when he sees me. I am truly, madly, deeply blessed. Namaste.

Originally posted on Pachamama Spirit

Roller-coasting

You know, when I was nineteen, Grandpa took me on a roller coaster . . . Up, down, up, down. Oh, what a ride! . . . I always wanted to go again. You know, it was just so interesting to me that a ride could make me so frightened, so scared, so sick, so excited, and so thrilled all together! Some didn’t like it. They went on the merry-go-round. That just goes around. Nothing. I like the roller coaster. You get more out of it. ~ Parenthood

I am on an emotional roller coaster these days. Today is my little Bean’s 4-month birthday. He is such a sweet delight, and brings me so much joy. But this is an anniversary of mixed feelings as it denotes that I am returning to work next week.

Whether or not to be a working mom could be, I’m sure, the subject of many posts. This is not going to be one of them. But this experience is an opportunity, like so many opportunities, for anxiety to rise up, along with all of my niggling doubts (and self-doubts), and the full range of my emotions to spill out of me (often onto those around me). But it is also an opportunity, like so many opportunities, for me to practice my craft, practice connecting to source, practice trusting that what is best for all of us is manifesting in our lives right now, practice staying present to the now instead of wandering off into what is still yet to come.

The practice, however, is not always my first stop these days. Sleep deprivation and not taking enough time for self-care (not necessarily in that order) have left me a little rough around the edges. After I nursed Bean back to sleep at 3 o’clock this morning, I could not fall back asleep myself. He and his brother had spent the whole day at daycare yesterday, and I was struggling with how little time I got to spend with either of them that evening. Not because of the evening itself, but because I was worried that this is how it is always going to be moving forward, and I was anxiously trying to figure out how on earth I was going to ever be able to spend enough quality time with them to satisfy me. *sigh*

I won’t bore you with the ugly details of the next couple of hours. Suffice it to say I worked myself into a lovely lather before the practice kicked in. But finally, I was able to come to a place where I could honor the emotions I was feeling (fear, sadness, and love, oh so much love). I gave myself permission to not have to be the absolutely best mom/wife/daughter/manager/colleague/friend for a little while. I remembered that what happens next week is next week’s opportunity for practice, and that today all I have to focus on is, well, today. I breathed in the intoxicating smell of baby and looked deep into his joy-filled eyes and enjoyed that single moment, and then the next, and then the next, and remembered that I don’t have to spend all day, every day with him to have these divine moments.

Parenting is a practice. It is not the easiest practice I’ve encountered, but it may be the most effective. It triggers such intense joy, but also all of my doubts and fears. And behind every trigger is an opportunity to release and let it all go and come back into the present moment so much more aware, so much more appreciative, and so much more joyful. As I write about today’s roller coaster, the emotion that most strongly comes to mind is gratitude. Today was a gift. Ah, thank you! Namaste.

Originally posted on Pachamama Spirit