I read a news story about the Sycamore Gap tree in England that was cut down in an act of vandalism. It was a magical spot alongside Hadrian’s Wall and one that attracted many visitors. Now the tree is gone. There is a great effort to reseed a new tree from cuttings and seeds. And there is even a hope that the trunk will sprout new growth. These are two quotes from the story.

“Over the next year, we’ll be doing all we can to nurture the seeds and cuttings, in the hope that some will grow into strong, sturdy saplings providing a new future for this much-loved tree.”…”As with many things in landscape restoration, we need to be patient and take the time to let nature do its thing.” 

It is quite a useful metaphor for how we might treat each other when we feel broken or destroyed…for when suddenly something big and beautiful is missing from our life. This story suggests that we nurture each other. It counsels us to be hopeful and patient. As with many difficulties in life, we are wise to let nature do its thing.

With great love
Paula

I’ve done a lot of work managing my expectations. Work meaning…learning how to be satisfied with my own self. That’s what it takes. Because it really isn’t about the other person at all. Read…it is MY expectation…so it’s about me. No matter what anyone else says or does, no matter how things turn out, I am learning to be satisfied with myself.

Being satisfied with my own self starts with doing and saying things intentionally. Not because I expect a certain outcome or something from someone…but because it’s what I want. It feels good and right and true for me.  If another person disagrees, doesn’t reciprocate, or doesn’t follow through, well, that’s on them. If they attack me, talk behind my back, judge me harshly, well, that’s on them, too. And if it doesn’t work out the way I had hoped, oh well.

Managing my expectations is about extricating myself from the story I’ve made up of how it’s supposed to be…and feeling okay no matter what. Satisfied.

Truth be told, it still hurts sometimes. I feel frustrated or defeated or angry. But if I pause long enough, take a deep breath and look back…I realize it was just an expectation…a story that didn’t work out the way I wrote it in my head. No need to judge myself or the other person. It’s just what happened.

Still learning
Paula

People will judge you for your choices. They will laugh or say I told you so when you fail. They will disagree but have no opinion or suggestion about how to move forward. Some will walk away. All these things will happen when you commit. Count on it. And then say to yourself…so what?! I mean…so what?!

Trust yourself. For the sake of all that is holy…trust yourself. Take a moment and trust how you feel. Does this choice excite you? Do you feel lighter when you think about it? Does it seem like this is what you are being called to? If so, say yes. Commit!

Committed doesn’t mean no fear. Committed doesn’t mean absolutely certain of the outcome. Committed means being behind your own self in that moment. Because you feel the realness of it. Of all the things…this…I’m choosing this.

You may find yourself choosing again…and again. So what?! Learn to listen and trust how you feel. Hit the reset button when it’s the next best choice.

I don’t think there is a better way to live.

Me… I’m practicing.
Paula

I posted this last year. Here it is again. It’s a reminder.

The holiday season is about to begin. Some of us slather on a whole additional layer of “things I have to get done”. We have an entirely different list of “boxes I need to check”. Maybe we’re excited. Maybe we’re exhausted just thinking about it.

Wherever you fall, this is a reminder to check in with yourself. Whatever you do, do it consciously and do it because it feels good. Don’t let others steal your joy or your peace.

And don’t try to steal another’s joy or peace by assuming what makes you feel good also applies to them. You really have no idea.

In the season of love, how about we just be kind. Kindness includes accepting myself and others exactly the way we are. In simple terms, it is walking to the beat of my own drum and allowing others to do the same. Gently. Without judgment.

This is just a reminder. A reminder I need…every year.
With great humility
Paula

Not every week is my best week. Some weeks I feel sad, worried, discouraged, ill at ease. Sometimes I feel this way from reading the news and other times as a result of a poor decision I made or a situation I’ve put myself in. Sometimes I feel hurt because of a story I made up about what someone else said or did. Sometimes I just feel bad…physically. Even if the sun is shining, sometimes it’s just not the best week.

So, what to do? I’ve decided that every once in a while it’s okay to have a not-my-best-week. I spend more time alone, practice saying no, give myself a chance to heal. I hibernate for a little while. I don’t try to make it anything other than what it is…a not-so-good-week.

And you know what happens? I eventually have a better week. It starts after I’ve given enough attention and space for the sadness, worry or hurt. I’ve wrestled with it, cried about it, ruminated, and prayed. I’m ready to move forward. I’m able to move because somehow, I find my peace in all of it. Maybe some strength or courage I wasn’t sure I had. I feel a little lighter.

Grateful for better weeks…and the courage to get there.
Paula

Here is a quote from my daily Zen calendar.

Ultimately, happiness comes down to choosing between the discomfort of becoming aware of your mental afflictions and the discomfort of being ruled by them.

Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche

The first thing that stands out to me is that I am choosing between discomforts…not between discomfort and something else. The second thing is that I have a choice. And the third thing is that we are talking about happiness. But how can I be happy in discomfort? Does that seem reasonable?

Being ruled by affliction offers no path forward. It is the place of stuckness. Playing the victim. Blame.

Awareness of mental affliction may be uncomfortable, but it does offer a way forward. If I am aware, if I am curious, if I can sit in the discomfort of knowing some sort of pain and not get tossed to the wind…I have a chance for happiness. I have a chance because I don’t try to avoid the truth or pretend it isn’t there. Awareness gives me a chance see the affliction for what it is, to turn in over in my hands, to understand it in a new way.

It takes courage to sit in the messiness of life. Our willingness to sit there allows room for acceptance, healing, humility, forgiveness. The home of true happiness lies within these places.

With great humility
Paula

It’s easy to get discouraged, sad and even depressed about all the violence and hate we see in the news and on social media. It seems overwhelming and horrible. So many people are suffering…deeply suffering. Wounded, exhausted, enraged. When I start down this path…when I let in only the struggle of the world…things get too dark.

I have to remember…there is not only violence and hate. There is also love and understanding. It’s just not quite as headline grabbing. But it’s happening all the time. Sometimes it’s right in front of me. Other times, I have to look for it. But it’s there. I promise.

Don’t let anyone tell you it’s not. And don’t let yourself believe the worst. I don’t want to live that way. I want to know that good happens, that love is stronger than hate, that peace is possible. I want to walk around like this.

Dark is only dark because there is not yet light. I want to be the light…as often as I can.

Paula

Fall is my favorite season. After a sultry, humid summer I am so ready for cool, crisp air. I can feel it enter my lungs. Breathing is refreshing and invigorating. I feel alive…I mean alive!!!

I want to feel that way all the time…alive, I mean. The cool air makes it easy, but I don’t have to wait for fall. I don’t have to wait for the weather to be just right. I want to feel alive for my life. Don’t you?

It’s all about being present to whatever life is right now. When it’s easy and when it’s hard. When I am full of enthusiasm and when I am exhausted. When I am alone and when I am not. When I am closed off and when I am engaged. When I am clickety-clacking along and when I am balled up in a corner.

When I am on my deathbed I want to be able to say…I showed up. I was there for my life. All of it. And it was good. It was a good life. Because I was there. I didn’t hide. It was real and it was mine. It was my life.

This cool air is a reminder for me. I can choose to be alive…really alive…no matter what.
Grateful

This is worth sharing. A great reminder that this is my life and I make the choices. I do my best when I’m awake and take responsibility for me.

Autobiography in Five Short Chapters
by Portia Nelson

Chapter One of My Life. I walk down the street. There’s a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost. I am helpless. It isn’t my fault. It still takes forever to find a way out.

Chapter Two. I walk down the same street. There’s a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don’t see it. I fall in again. I can’t believe I’m in the same place! But it isn’t my fault. And it still takes a long time to get out.

Chapter Three. I walk down the same street. There’s a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it there. I still fall in. It’s a habit! My eyes are open. I know where I am. It is my fault. I get out immediately.

Chapter Four. I walk down the same street. There’s a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.

Chapter Five. I walk down a different street.

Thank you Portia Nelson.
Paula

There is so much going on in the world that grabs my attention…and not in a good way. If I focus too much on all the stuff that is out of my control…which is pretty much everything…I can feel exhausted and sad. There is something very powerful and reinvigorating to see, really see, what is right in front of me.

I went to the car wash on Sunday afternoon. It was a picture-perfect day and I was happy to take on this chore. As I rode through the automatic brushes and soap dispensers and water sprays and hot wax and finally the blow dryers…I thought about how it was when my Dad took us into one…way back in the 60’s. Back then, the car stayed still while all the water and soap and brushes whirled around. While I remembered feeling a bit scared not being able to see what was happening when the soap covered the windows, I also felt happy with the memory.

My Dad’s been gone for more than six years now. It felt good to be reminded of this experience.

Out I drove into a space to wipe down the windows and doors and to use the vacuum. Right there beside the rear passenger tire was a bright penny. I smiled and picked it up and said to myself…thanks Dad, I didn’t know you were listening.

Paying attention.
Paula