I wish I knew more about...

M82: Images From Space Telescopes Produce Stunning View of Starburst Galaxy, Chandra X-ray Observatory

I wish I knew more about space. Like how much to allow myself to process something or to get something done just the way I want it to turn out. There always seems to be this sense of urgency, like I should already know or be well on my way or that it should have been done by now. Just how much space do I need to come fully present into myself, or for my coaching practice to fully manifest, or for me to put my aversion to conflict into action in a way that powerfully serves. How much space do I allow others to be in their stuff? How much do I participate in affecting the quality of the space? I get the sense that if I allow enough space for myself, for others, for that thing to manifest, then there becomes enough room for growth, for playful creativity, for messiness. Does it help if I name the space or give it a place to be found?

At the moment, it seems that the more I understand about the space that I allow (how much and other qualities that define it), the more room there is for me to grow and to support others in their own growth at the same time. It turns out that I need ALOT of space with just-right measures of interrelations in order to feel like I'm thriving. It helps me to keep in step with what I know while opening me up to take in what I don't yet know. This wish for knowing more about space is a tasty one indeed. I get to keep knowing more and there will still be more to learn.

I'm just coming out of a place of needing a tremendous amount of space and it seems to be that I'm not alone. Yet space is so, well, nebulous. I'm curious what allowing space means to you. What's at least one way that you allow yourself or someone else space? What are the qualities of that space?

Extreme Measures

This past week has been a roller coaster ride of sorts.

Not being much of one for amusement parks for their mass appeal evidenced by the crowded long lines, mediocre food, blatant displays of seemingly everything representing the opposite of mindful, sustainable practices that I so love and the sticky-dirtiness that abounds there, I remain intrigued by the rides themselves, particularly the roller coasters. There's something about them that appeals to my high sensation seeking self that's at the same time a blatant assault on my kinder, gentler sensibilities. The way I laugh despite being jostled and bumped and jolted, my parts flailing helplessly at the spastic movements of the monster machine. The way my cheeks cramp from the ridiculous perma-grin plastered across my face as the skin of my cheeks is flung back from the Gs. The way the tears stream from the sheer exposure, not to mention the wind that blasts into me. The way it all comes to a sudden halt and the way it takes me a while to find my sea legs. The extremeness of the entire experience.

There's something about the way I feel completely and helplessly out of control while willingly in the clutches of the roller coaster that feels oddly similar in a somatic sense to the way I've been riding life lately. It's as if I've been flying around on the scaly-hard back of an ethereal dragon, clutching its neck as I hold on for dear life all-the-while being forced to trust its skill in holding us airborne as we loop, dodge and soar. An extreme letting go of affecting any difference at all in the course of our flight or the prospect of a safe landing.

In the midst of the crises inflicting this world, I'm forced to let go. For me, this is self-care in its most extreme form. There's so much that's out of my control. Everything, really, when it comes down to it. Everything except my choices. I just have to be here with all I've got, even those clumsy, odd, and ugly-beastly parts of me and trust that my experience, ability to listen and feel deeply, and my courage to remain open-hearted and vulnerable will be enough.

This is how I choose to be engaged right now. Much as I sometimes fantasize about living in complete isolation, safely complacent and shut off from the pain and suffering, I'm finding that my energy is rising and my compassion is growing by letting myself feel all of this. ...and ultimately, it feels pretty amazing. I'm feeling more connected than ever. What about you? Have you experienced this twisting, churning, inside out turning ride? ...or perhaps you're standing in line waiting to climb on board, or maybe you're keeping yourself safely cushioned within your comfort zone far away from this threatening whorl of chaos, unknown and infinite possibility. Where are you in this wild ride of life and what's the view like from there?

Nothing like a little mass distruction to start the day.

I woke Friday morning to the sound of my favorite radio deejay's voice calmly advising that there would be a tsunami arriving at 8 and that I should check the news for details. Her message was brief, without substantiating details. My first groggy thought was, "Is it April 1st? Is she trying to fool us?" Quickly becoming alert, I convinced myself that, no, it was still March. So I went to the computer to see what I could learn. Little did I know then what a wake up call this was.

There had been a massive earthquake in Japan and the entire Pacific bowl was to be affected by a tsunami. I quickly gathered what information I could to first determine my own safety, then set out to get a better picture of the bigger story.

Family okay, check.
Others in my community okay, check.
Then I heard that schools were closed. I've heard of snow days, but tsunami days?!

I put two and two together, realizing that a couple of our local schools are shelter locations during events such as this and drove down to the local elementary school to see if I could lend a hand. A representative from the American Red Cross assured me that they had only about twenty evacuees and that they had plenty of support for that number of people. He suggested that how I could really help would be to become directly involved with disaster relief in my area. You see, said he, most of the volunteers had to come from miles away to support this morning's evacuation effort. Had this turned out to be a real large-scale disaster, one where people are not just temporarily displaced, but homes are destroyed, infrastructure is disrupted or damaged and all things are thrown into a shocking state of mayhem, he and they would not have been able to get here so easily, at least not without a helicopter. Seriously.

So that got me to thinking as I was listening to my fear shouting, "We've got to do something!" My fear fed by remembering all the criticism over how long it took FEMA to get clean water to the communities devastated by Hurricane Katrina, or the utter helplessness I feel when I hear, "what are they going to do about those over-heating nuclear reactors?" The hackles of idealism are going up along the ridge of my back as I type. Something's got to be done. Just who is this they anyway? It's really all about me, us, and we, when it comes down to it. Isn't it? The way I see it, having better and more local safeguards in place, including being personally prepared, is critical in ensuring that disaster victims are cared for quickly and effectively. No matter where you live, there's some real threat of something happening that can devastate your life, your family, your home, your community. Any of us could be a disaster victim. I know you need no convincing that the threat is real!

...and here I am all up in arms and at the same time full of anxiety over the sheer insignificance that I feel when I consider the size of the role that I alone play in all this. In the midst of knowing I'm safe and others are in sheer tumult. I've got to do something and I could be doing so much more. Taking a big, deep breath, there's a swell of relief that comes when I realize that I'm not alone, it is we who are at work here. ... and WE make a difference every time we increase our awareness and open our hearts toward others. We care, we can't help it. These small actions of compassionate listening empower us to know what to do in times like these by improving our ability to respond and to feel the significance of the profound ripple effect each of our efforts has on the healing of the whole.

I'm going to start small and work outward from there. I've decided I will engage in a conversation with my husband to come up with a disaster preparedness plan for our household, something we haven't done formally. I want to have a plan for what we'll do if disaster strikes and we're apart when it happens. ...and I want to have this plan in place by the end of this week. What if we can't reach each other by phone and panic begins to take hold? I know for us, having an agreement about what we'll do so that we can count on certain behavior from one another is key. I will start there. The Red Cross has all kinds of information about disaster preparedness and is a wonderful resource for you to find ways to help, too. I hope you'll join me in taking some actions this week to ensure that we're even more ready to protect ourselves and to care for each other when disaster strikes again. All I'm asking is that you decide to do something to prepare yourself just a bit better. Join me and develop a disaster preparedness plan for yourself. Are you in? Let me know what you decide by leaving a comment.

Detachment of Heroic Proportions

There's an overwhelming sense of angst in the air today and it seems to be coming from the debilitating shadow cast by that evil nemesis, the Great Unknown.

I spent a good part of the morning diving into what it is that I don't know to see what I could learn from it and here's what I found:

1) What I don't know is WAY more than what I do know. Not only does this mean that I have alot more to learn, it also and possibly even more importantly means that I can't possibly know everything or even most of everything. This is somehow freeing in that I'm able to give myself permission to not know. Hey! I get to not know! I don't have to have all the answers. phew.

2) Since what I don't know is WAY more than what I do know, it requires a ton of room to exist within. This means that I can't possibly hold the space within myself for all there is that I don't already know. It's no wonder that I'm feeling yucky and over-taxed. I've been trying to contain all this unknown somehow! Who do I think I am? Hercules?

3) Realizing that I'd been trying to contain way more than what was mine to contain, I called upon a few members of my support team: meditation, a good cry, and talking it out. I'm now feeling at least a bit more present and have purged a good portion of the angst.

4) Now exhausted, yet softened and more pliant, I can feel the hold of the Great Unknown loosen its grip as I, too, loosen mine. I'm reminded to let go of any attachment I have to the outcomes that I hope for and to simply trust that I am doing what I can, showing up to be with what is, and responding just as I do, without worrying that I have to get it exactly right. A wise woman I know said this recently and it's really resonating with me right now: "When I let go of the control, and respond from a place that is grounded, detached, and confidently secure (it doesn't matter what happens - both outcomes are good ones), I get the response that I'm hoping for and then some."

...and so, feeling very relieved that I don't have to know everything and I don't have to carry the weight of the entirety of the unknown either, I'm feeling a sense of safety and spaciousness around me. I'm grateful for the support of others and my courage to sit with the unknown.

What about you? Are you ready to dive in to the Great Unknown to see what you can learn? Do it. You'll feel better in the long run, I promise. I'd love to hear how it goes!

I'm Here to Make a Really Big Difference!

You know that feeling that you have when you get to experience a profoundly deep shift in consciousness after a retreat, training or getting out there and affecting change? That feeling when you're bigger than yourself, like you've combined energies with the others who have experienced this event with you and that you're now forever connected? That sense of feeling like everything's brighter and nothing can stop you? That deep knowing that you're here to make a really big difference and you know just what it is that you are here to do? I know you know what I'm talking about!

I'm inspired to do this by the fine example of FOUR YEARS. GO., by my work and training as a coach and long-time involvement and interest in serving the greater good. ...and by the heart-bursting reality that the compounded effects of each of our efforts is beyond amazing!

So, come on! Let's declare right here and now that we're here to make a really big difference! In the spirit of building community and getting to know a bit more about what each of us are doing to make this world a better place, share a bit of your ultimate wish for the world and what you're doing today to make that wish come true by commenting below.