Surrendering to the Signs

Have you noticed this cycle in your life – maybe it’s just me? – working very hard, pushing through, nose to the grindstone, knowing that soon, just up ahead, on the horizon there is a vacation. A little light at the end of the tunnel on the to-do list of life.

And then you arrive on vacation in a lovely spot (which by the way has no Wifi a small curse and miracle) and find yourself in a twisted yoga pose with the lovely waves in the background while you are plotting and scheming in your head about either:

a. How to change your entire life in order to stay in this tropical location forever (big plans of buying a retreat center, who you will hire, how to inform family members you will not be coming back, do you sell everything and start over? How much does it cost to ship stuff? Would the dog need to be quarantined? How do you earn money while working in Mexico, do you have to pay taxes on that? Could I really live in this heat full time?)

Or

b. How can you can change your entire life when you get back.  (My schedule is not conducive to a healthy lifestyle, how can I cut back my work hours to do more yoga? Can I take a day off per week and still pay the mortgage? And what about that novel I have been planning to write since I was 5? When am I going to do that? And will it sell? What section of the bookstore would they carry it in? Or should it be an e-book?)

This was me, relaxing! On vacation, at a lovely week-long yoga retreat in Mexico, recovering from a particularly intense 8 months of running non-stop.

As you can see, my mind is never at rest. This driver inside, the one who needs to achieve, accomplish, be the best, never stops. It’s my biggest challenge, to tame that inner voice that constantly cajoles me to do more, be better, try harder, get it all figured out.

It wasn’t until day 7 after a relaxing massage that I sat down at the beach, closed my eyes and shut out the noise in my head.

“Maybe” I said to myself, “Just maybe what I need to do is stop striving to get somewhere and focus instead on taking care of this body which will hopefully last me a few more decades and listen to my heart which is yearning for some sort of creative fulfillment. And if I simply do that, maybe the rest will take care of itself.”

I took in a deep breath, anchoring my intention with the Universe, opened my eyes, and there in front of me was a baby whale, jumping and spinning in the Pacific Ocean. I felt like the Universe had heard my solemn oath and responded in kind.

It took 7 days but I finally got it. I was able to leave without the usual anxiety of the future, the need to figure out what’s next, or upend my entire life. What remained was a feeling of peace in my heart to carry back home and share with all of you!

Last nigh I watched Schindler’s List, played in its entirety without commercials on USA Network. The fact that they did this is a powerful message to me and our times and the great need for change. I first saw this film in 1994 when going through a divorce and trying to figure out my life. At the end of the film, I sat in the theater sobbing. It made my problems look ridiculously small. I turned to my friend next to me and said “I’m going to do whatever it takes so that never happen again.”

A week later I met Claire Nuer, facilitating her workshop with Learning as Leadership, a Holocaust survivor who had been hidden on a farm with a Catholic family during the war while her entire family perished except her mother. She stood on stage, her hand on her heart and declared “I am committed to do whatever it takes so that such a level of atrocity of man’s power over man never happen again” I felt something shift inside me in that moment, I knew that my life was about to change, that my path had been clarified. And I knew I would work with her.

For nearly 20 years now I have guided and coached others through the personal development training she created, alongside her grown children who continue her legacy after her death.

(And by the way, I was not trained as a coach, I had not studied for the job, no one gave me permission to do it, I just knew I needed to share her work in the world, so I took one step at a time, first volunteering for her organization and then becoming a full-time employee in 2000).

Seeing this film at this time feels like a powerful message for me as I contemplate my evolving role on the planet, and how I can be of the highest good for humanity.

What is your stand?

What gifts and talents are you holding back because you feel you’re not yet qualified?

How do you want to make a difference in the world, right here, right now?

Speak to me!

My mind often struggles with this concept that We are all ONE. This idea that I am a reflection of you and you are a reflection of me, and that we are all a reflection of Source, God, the Universe, call it what you will. So today I decided to embark on an experiment. To embrace the ALL and see myself in the ALL. From the folks gathered at my new favorite organic café to my husband, to my dog – I tried to see myself in them, the part of them that was me. Along came an old friend I had not seen in a while, and I saw her in me.

Then I took the dog for a walk and it was as if the Universe was sending greater challenges my way – like “can you see yourself in him? In her?” There were the laborers fixing pipes in the ground, a man getting sick outside a car surrounded by gang-looking guys. Then the homeless people excited that the local supermarket was giving out gift cards for Christmas. And yet another juxtaposition – the folks playing tennis in their whites, BMWs parked next to the day-workers standing by the side of the road hoping to make some money before Christmas. And then (more challenging yet) the man yelling at his son, sobbing, on his bike “You need to shut up and listen to me!” Taking it all in trying not to judge. Another man, walking across the street, in pajamas and flip flops cursing at the sky. As I just embraced this, another man working at the dry cleaner beams at me and waves – “Merry Christmas!” Followed by four boys and a little dog– chattering about Christmas Eve! Such excitement and anticipation.

It was as if God was flaunting it all for me in a 20-minute walk to say “see? It’s ALL this.” This can be a wondrous exciting time, and it can be a very sad and lonely time and in some ways, I am feeling both mixed inside me and honoring that. I wish you all a wonderful holiday, no matter your current condition.

“Silence is the root of everything. If you spiral into its void a hundred voices will thunder messages you long to hear.” 
Rumi

As summer was coming to a close, I began to realize that despite a family vacation (or because of a family vacation?) I was worn down and still needed a break!

I craved space, inside and out.

I needed silence.

So when the opportunity to spend four days on silent retreat came along, I grabbed it with both hands. Ruth and Bruce Davis’s unique blend of daily meditation and gentle heart-opening movement with long stretches of silence was just what my weary soul demanded.

We are constantly bombarded with information and stimulation that makes it very crowded inside our heads.

What I noticed at first was how tired I was. I slept almost the entire first day.

A few judgmental thoughts floated in, something about DOING something on this retreat you lazy bum! I thanked them, rolled over and went back to sleep.

Until we slow down we don’t notice how fast we’re going.

Slowly my energy returned, my body relaxed, my cells repaired themselves from the stress and strain of modern life.

I prepared and fed myself healthy food. I ate in silence, and noticed how much more delicious my food tasted than when I mindlessly eat in front of the computer.

Then I noticed what was going on in my head. The voices in there were yammering at me constantly, like the baby Blue Jays outside my bedroom window each morning.

It is only in the stillness of silence that we hear how loud things are.

Being in silence allows us to notice our patterns of thinking in order to step out of them and helps us still those inner voices.

A massage on day three didn’t hurt either.

As I spent the afternoon in silence I remembered the recent Eddie Murphy film A Thousand Words. Every time he speaks, a leaf falls from a tree in his back yard. This funny and touching story is based on the premise that when all the leaves are gone, he dies. As a result he learns to be very discerning with his words.

We use so many words each day. How many are truly necessary? How many carry meaning? Do our actions really demonstrate our true feelings?

On the morning of the final day I was standing in the kitchen, gobbling down a bowl of instant oatmeal stressing about all the things I needed to do to pack and get myself home that day, and what I had to do when I got home and… and … and I caught myself. This was my “normal” way of being kicking back in.

My mind said, “The retreat is over lady, time to get (your lazy ass implied) back on the train.”

I thanked my mind for reminding that life outside retreat still exists, picked up my cup of tea and went to sit outside and gaze at the valley below for a final peaceful hour. I heard the bees buzzing, watched the humming birds drink flower nectar. I noticed hot air balloons rise up from the valley floor. And I thought about… well, nothing. Pure bliss.

I figure four days of silence were worth the one hour of solitude I finally achieved on my last day.

I vowed to take the practice home with me and devote the first hour of every day to stillness instead of Facebook and email.

I invite you to give yourself the gift of silence, whether it be 10 minutes or an hour a day. It doesn’t matter if your form of meditation is yoga, or walking, or sitting on your deck, take time to notice the thoughts in your head in order to free yourself from them.

If you need help in finding silence, here are some

upcoming opportunities for retreat:

I will be leading an intimate retreat October 26-28, 2012 in Northern California where we will integrate connecting with our soul’s purpose with plenty of time built in for silence.

My sister Janice Gates, author of Yogini, the Power of Women in Yoga hosts quarterly silent yoga and meditation day-long retreats at Green Gulch Zen Center. She is also holding a women’s retreat on the California Coast in November and she and I are co-leading a retreat in Mexico in March of 2013, more on her retreats can be found here.

As mentioned above, there is the new Silent Stay also in Northern California.

In Europe check out La Lumiere in the South of France.

For those interested in learning from an Aboriginal healer in the Australian outback, there is Spirit Adventure Tours where I will be returning with a group in summer of 2013.

However you choose to pursue it, enjoy the silence!

Have you noticed a lot of us are out on the edge lately?

In my conversations with women they want to know if this precipice they’re peering down from is a breakthrough or a breakdown.

They hesitate to even talk about it.

What if things get really unhinged?

I assure them, from the view I see, that it’s a breakthrough

… although it may feel temporarily like a breakdown.

They express worry about feeling out of control in their lives. The confusion. The crying. The sleepless nights. The days they can’t get out of bed.

I tell them, “You are birthing something; a new you.”

I suggest patience. Kindness. Self-care. Lots of naps. Time in nature.

Or a few episodes of “Hoarders.” That always makes me feel better. Puts things in perspective.

As we drop deeper into the conversation, I sense the tightness in their chest, the shallow breathing, the darting mind, trying to grab hold of something known, familiar, a landmark they can recognize on the horizon.

I do what I can to give them space to find their clarity, their inner knowing.

Sometimes we take a moment to breathe. Or I invite them to connect with the ground beneath their feet. I try and coax them out of their over-active analytical mind on an adventure down to the wild territory of the heart, where it’s often tender, protected.

As always, I encourage letting go. Surrendering.

Sometimes a few tears are shed.

And then they share about moments of giddy unbridled joy and a deep inner knowing that life is truly a gift.

And that they are on to something BIG. (This is often said in a conspiratorial whisper, so as not to tempt the Fates).

We’re in the Wild West folks. Unprecedented changes are occurring daily. Miracles, really. I know you see it all around you. Some people make it look easy. But I bet if you peek below the surface of the water, you’ll see their little duck feet paddling like crazy.

We are women on the verge.

I looked it up –verge, “The limit or point beyond which something begins or occurs; brink.”

We’re on the brink.

Let’s hold hands and jump off together, ready?

It’s time to dig down deep.

Dig Down Deep

Adapted song lyrics by Marc Cohn

Baby let’s go below the surface

See what we can find

There’s no reason to be nervous

‘Cause it happens all the time

I don’t want to go up to the mountain

I don’t need to go down to the sea

I’m gonna sit right here ‘till we unravel the mystery

And I don’t want to wait until tomorrow

‘Cause the fortune said ‘The time is now”

It’s time to find out what we’re doing

What we’re doing anyhow

It’s an open invitation

Baby don’t you cry

It’s a life-long celebration

I think we’re right on time

It’s a feeling in your heart

A lump in the throat

It’s a strange and lovely ride

Want to dig down deep inside

While everyone else is just walking around

In their sleep

Baby let’s dig down deep

I love Marc Cohn’s music, to purchase the best of on iTunes, go here.

If you’re feeling in the need of a little hand-holding at the verge, hop on over to sign up for my free 15-minute Soul Infusion.

I am one of those spiritual seekers who never seem to find what I am looking for. Enlightenment eludes me, or is that the point?

I’ve meditated in the Catskill Mountains, practiced yoga in the Yucatan, taken spiritual treks in the Andes and embarked on a vision quest in a crowded state park over Labor Day weekend (not recommended). I’ve fasted for ten days, abstained from alcohol for a year and sex for five. I’ve been impaled with thousands of acupuncture needles and drank foul tasting Chinese herbal concoctions that made me retch.

I’ve been re-birthed in Mendoza, Argentina, had my palm read in Sardinia, Italy, my soul retrieved in Fairfax, California, and the devil stamped out of me in a rather unorthodox Eastern Orthodox church in San Francisco. I’ve sought advice from therapists, Tarot readers, astrologers, psychics and strangers in line at Starbucks.

I even participated in a pagan ritual to release the burdens of my past where I threw my wishes into a bonfire after dancing all night to the beat of African drums and plunged myself, naked, into an ice cold river.

Sometimes I wonder what I’m searching for.

Maybe I’m trying to recapture a clear, cold December night in Upstate New York when I was six years old. Bundled up in my chubby red winter snowsuit, a hand-me-down from my mother’s cousin Kathleen, I lay on a pile of fresh powdery snow in the front yard of our house inhaling the cold winter air, the kind that hurts your lungs when you breathe in too deep. With only my eyes and nose peeking out from my damp, scratchy wool scarf, I felt blissfully alone and at the same time snug and safe knowing my family was on the other side of the frosted windows.

The millions of stars shining out of the black sky awed me. The piles of snow covering the neighborhood muffled all sound, creating an internal stillness. There were no chores, no homework, no parents asking me what I’d learned at school that day. Just me, the sky, the stars.

A warmth glowed inside me. It was as if I knew everything was going to be OK. God was looking out for me. Not a gray-bearded God the nuns had threatened would punish the entire St. Therese kindergarten class for squirming in our chairs. But a friendly, encouraging God, the kind who might wink at you and say, “Hey kid, I know you’re doing your best.”

Eventually my mother called me into dinner, and life went on… until twenty years later when I went through a very painful divorce. My heart broke open and I was launched on my 20-year spiritual search.

“In order to find the treasure, you will have to follow the omens. God has prepared a path for everyone to follow. You just have to read the omens that he left you.”

Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

My new blog, Surrendering to the Signs, is my shift from seeking to applying, from questioning to expressing. A place to share thoughts, insights, and intuitions: yours and mine. I invite a conversation where we can together indentify, interpret and not only follow, but surrender, to the small still voice inside, the subtle urgings of our soul to propel us forward into unknown territory.

I enter this conversation with a sense of urgency for change. The planet desperately needs us to remove all barriers and resistance to fully being who and what we are here for. If not us, who? If not now, when?

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.

Don’t go back to sleep.

You must ask for what you really want.

Don’t go back to sleep.

People are going back and forth across the doorsill

where the two worlds touch.

The door is round and open.

Don’t go back to sleep.

Rumi