A Safe Space For Emotional Authenticity

I remember her tears when she fell off the swing and broke her forearm many years ago. That was one of my bittersweet recollections as I stood before the swing set on a Friday afternoon, ratchet in hand, as I began to disassemble a part of her life she had simply outgrown.

She outgrew it well before I was ready to accept that she did.

Life is full of transitions, many of which happen well before we are willing to accept them. The impermanent nature of everything can lead us to resist realities we are not yet ready to embrace, clinging ever tightly in hopes of prolonging the inevitable. But the inevitable is called inevitable for a reason.

There is a delicate balance between holding on and letting go, a balance I struggled with as the pile of rusted bolts grew at my feet. Over the years I’ve learned to allow myself to handle life transitions however I need to handle them, giving myself the grace to toggle between the holding on and the letting go. There is no “right” way to measure my response against, as my journey and my process are uniquely mine to experience. No apologies or explanations needed. For others or for myself.

Just a safe space where I am free to be emotionally authentic in any moment, in any situation.

Even on a Friday afternoon with a ratchet in my hand.

Creating such a space was one of the most significant transitions I’ve made in my own life.

A space we all deserve.

Photo by Clay LeConey on Unsplash

Every Day Is Graduation Day

One by one, alphabetically aligned, they crossed the stage as their names were read aloud much to the enthusiastic delight of proud families gathered to witness one of life’s important milestones.

To say it’s been a while since my own high school graduation would be an understatement. Many decades have passed since the seventeen year old version of me with long hair and no clearly defined path forward crossed the stage and left with a diploma of my own.

I’m still looking for that clearly defined path forward.

Graduation ceremonies celebrate both the effort it took to get this far as well as infinite possibilities ahead for those who wish to seize them. On this day an introspective and reflective significantly older version of me is asking what I did with all those infinite possibilities that had my name on them. What did I do with the time I’d been given? What have I done? More importantly and often painfully, what haven’t I done?

There are two things in life I will never get back. My shoulder-length hair and time. Of the two, time both scares me and motivates me. Life’s infinite possibilities are maniacally juxtaposed with a life that is itself finite. It’s all possible until it isn’t.

I’ve come to understand that many of my infinite possibilities were never seized because I never allowed myself to seize them. Who I told myself I was often conflicted with who it was I was created to be. In that confliction I remained stagnant, fully aware of what was possible yet not willing to believe I was worthy of their attainment.

Perhaps there was some clearly defined path forward and I convinced myself not to take it.

Graduations need not be a formal ceremony clad in caps and gowns and pomp and circumstance. Graduation can be a decision made on any day you choose in the presence of only yourself, when you acknowledge how far you’ve come in your life and decide to embrace your own infinite possibilities. To break free of the self-imposed limitations long accepted as true and graduate to your own next level.

You are your own clearly defined path forward if you choose to decide to move yourself forward.

Decisions have the power to keep us stuck or to set us free.

Every day is graduation day.

Photo by Clay Banks on Unsplash

No One Is Going To Claim Your Peace For You

You’d think with something as important as inner peace would come with instructions as to how to find it. And maybe that’s been the problem. We think we’re supposed to be looking for it as if it’s out there somewhere, elusively eluding our efforts to find it.

Peace isn’t something you find. It’s something you claim.

Peace is a decision gift-wrapped in self awareness and discernment. I don’t have to engage, respond, react, nor participate. I don’t have to defend, deny, explain, nor justify.

I need not allow myself to get sucked up in a vortex of contentious hostility.

Yet I often do until I realize what I have done.

“Is this worth my peace?” I’ve learned to silently ask myself.

It almost never is.

My peace is my decision. It is an intention. It is always an available option, in every moment, always worthy of me prioritizing and protecting it.

When I remember it’s not something you find.

It’s something you claim.

Photo by Nathan Fertig on Unsplash

Embracing The Intentionality Of Nature

The signs are everywhere. The green buds on the barren branches. The yellow daffodils starting their annual bloom. The chirping of the birds greeting the sunrise.

Spring has sprung, leaving the cold and colorless winter behind.

Nature is a wise teacher, and Spring is one of its favorite lessons. Renewal and rebirth. My favorite lesson, though, is one often overlooked and rarely considered.

Intention.

Nature isn’t random. It doesn’t dabble. It creates with intention. Everything is uniquely purposeful, everything created to express itself fully. Every bud, every bug, every blade of grass fulfilling the intentional promise of its creation, significant and purposeful in their own unique way.

Nature reminds me that I am not random. I, too, was created with intention, with a unique purpose only I can express, a purpose intended to be fully expressed. Within us is the opportunity Continue reading “Embracing The Intentionality Of Nature” →

Things Don’t Last Forever On Their Own

I guess it was inevitable. But it didn’t have to be.

All of my life that barn was there. Until it wasn’t. A recent heavy wet snow proved too much for its weakened structure, slowly and consistently compromised by years of neglect to a point where it probably wasn’t worth the time and effort to save it.

Its demise seemed subtly unintentional. It was built to last, a solid foundation of granite supporting its timber frame posts and beams. It should have lasted forever.

But things usually don’t last forever on their own.

The rubble of the now-fallen barn offered me a stark reminder that the majestic things we’ve built in our own lives need the consistency of regular maintenance and pro-active care if we want them to last. Friendships, relationships, our health, and our emotional well being may all be built upon solid foundations, but indifference and complacency will surely weaken their structure, rendering them vulnerable and exposed to the inevitable storms life brings upon us.

If it’s worth saving, know it’s not going to save itself.

Photo by Chris Riggs on Unsplash

The Only Place I Am Is There

“One time, one meeting.”

It was mesmerizing. The color. The lines. The contrast. It was one of those photos I wish I had taken myself. But I didn’t need to own it to be able to fully enjoy it.

I just needed to see it.

Quite often I find myself alone in nature. A short hike though the woods, a long walk on a winter’s beach. The isolation is restorative and at some point I will inevitably attempt to capture the beauty of the natural world surrounding me in a photograph.

Looking through the view finder takes me to a place I’ve spent much of my life trying to find. The present moment. In the view finder a moment is frozen. I scan everything before pressing the button. The lines, the light, the color, the texture, the noise. Every detail in front of me is seen and assessed. I can adjust or decide to capture it exactly as it is. But in that moment, the only place I am is there.

When you discover the present moment you also discover how fleeting it is.

“Ichigo ichie” is a Japanese expression often translated to mean “one time, one meeting”. This and every moment is a singular moment in time. It cannot be relived exactly as it was. Therein lies its Continue reading “The Only Place I Am Is There” →

Great Years Don’t Happen On Their Own

He spoke with Biblical certainty.

“This is my year.”

It’s not uncommon to hear such bold declarations at the beginning of a new year. A brand new start, a clean slate, where anything feels possible and this guy was all in on that.

I hope this is his year.

In my life I’ve had those years that were definitely mine. Big years, significant years where outcomes vastly exceeded expectations leaving me feeling bullet proof and invincible. I’ve also had those years when I was a suck magnet where any optimism and enthusiasm I may have had at the start of the year was quickly beaten out of me.

I always hope each of my years will be good ones. But I’ve also learned to accept my responsibility in making a year a good one.

Experience and introspection tell me every year has been my year. Every year has been filled with opportunities to grow and to evolve and to become. In those big, significant years, I showed up for the opportunities I was presented with. I was intentional and deliberate. I wasn’t willing to Continue reading “Great Years Don’t Happen On Their Own” →

The Life You Decide To Live

A pie eating contest, winning a stuffed pig at a carnival, and running a seven mile road race.

What do they all have in common?

Intention.

Scrolling through my photos from the past 12 months I was reminded of some of the interesting things I did this year. Some big things, some small things, some new things, some familiar things.

If I didn’t show up for them they never would have happened for me.

As a recovering “hoper and wisher”, I know the good stuff in life seldom just shows up no matter Continue reading “The Life You Decide To Live” →

Defiant Enthusiasm

“Five golden rings!”

It’s amazing how much noise 132 elementary school students can make. But there they were, on stage for the annual Holiday concert belting out “The 12 Days of Christmas” for a very appreciative audience.

It was a beautiful noise.

These kids were fully animated. Each day of the 12 included a visual interpretation of each gift given, from lords a-leaping to maids a-milking. Their enthusiasm was so infectious the crowd began to mimic the actions of the kids from their seats. Even Santa, who was sitting in the room, joined in as well.

The enthusiasm and energy these kids brought this day was genuine and real. They showed up, lined up, and dove all the way in. The innocence of youth provides plenty of room for joyous enthusiasm to be fully expressed.

For the rest of us, well, enthusiasm feels like a lot more work.

Life does have a way of trying to beat the enthusiasm out of us adults, doesn’t it? Enthusiasm is Continue reading “Defiant Enthusiasm” →

If Water Was Time

As a kid, you never thought about how much water was in the glass. You just drank from it. Never worried if you spilled or wasted any of it. There was always more. The supply was abundant and seemingly infinite.

I’ve never been concerned whether my glass was half full or half empty. I just wanted to know how much was in the glass. If water was time, at my age I know most of the water in the glass of my life has already been consumed. And with that awareness, I’ve become much more intentional when taking sips of time from the glass of my life.

The circle has gotten smaller, the superficial has been discarded, the drama gets left behind, creating space for depth, substance, purpose, and expression.

I’ve become extremely protective of that space.

We really never know how much is left in the glass, do we?

I don’t intend on wasting a single drop.

Photo by Paul Lichtblau on Unsplash

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Lessons From A Life Unfolding

Tag: intention