Leaps of Faith

The last two leaps of faith I took had quite a few steps leading up to the leaping moment.

In retrospect it’s fascinating to see how one thing built on the next and then there I was, ready to leap.

Both times I started to doubt myself at certain points. Both times somebody unexpectedly nudged me to keep going.
They didn’t push me up or talk me up, they just reminded me to trust myself.

One of my yoga teachers would often ask, “What would you do if you knew you couldn’t fail?” I loved that question because it let me dream, it set me free, it tricked my mind into venturing out of its perfect, safe little box.

Leaping I’m realizing is actually just letting go. Letting go of how I need it to be, how I want it to be, how I wish it would be, and stepping onto the solid ground of how it is and into the enormous potential of working with what I have.

Letting go is often as easy as looking within.

Looking within and fanning the flame of life so that you can see your way clearly and inspire others to light themselves up as well.



Imagine a wall with a trap door hidden in it.  You feel around blindly.  You inspect every crack and hole.  You step back and look for faint patterns.  You look high.  You look low.  You jump.  You crawl.

You get tired.
You lean against the wall and stop searching.
The door opens behind you, under your weight.

Your journey has brought you here.  To this particular wall.  Feel, inspect, step back, attempt, fail, lean on it for support.  You are learning everything you need to know to survive on the other side.

When the door opens, walk through it.
One step at a time.

Finding S p a c e

Some months ago I started a meditation practice.  Like any new habit, I knew it would take some time to become automatic.  I committed to 15 minutes a day.  I figured it couldn’t be that impossible to find 15 minutes in a day to sit quietly.

And it wasn’t.  Some days I forgot, some days I only had 10 minutes… soon enough 15 minutes started to feel too short.  I moved it up to 30 minutes a day.  That felt so delicious, but 30 minutes was definitely a challenge in more way than one.

Most days I settle on 20 minutes, which is nowhere near long enough to really dive in, but long enough to reset me in a powerful way.  Even 10 minutes and I can see radical shifts in my breathing and state of mind after.

Lately it’s seemed almost impossible to carve out any quality time, space, and quiet… and I was feeling the difference.  I was missing it.

I decided if I waited until I had the perfect 30 minutes, I might be waiting quite a while.
I started looking for space in the busyness.  One day I found 20 whole minutes to meditate… while my car was getting washed.  Behind my sunglasses I closed my eyes and watched my breath settle, my thoughts float by, and took in the wonderful noises of being in the present.  Today I found 15 minutes while the cookies for company were baking.  Refreshing.

I don’t know when I will find my next 20 minutes, but now that I’ve opened my eyes to the space that’s available if I just take a closer look, I’ll know it when I see it and step into it, settle down, and breathe.


We will meet again,

And you will teach me great things.

About Abundance
About Depth
About Wisdom
and how it springs from within.

I wonder…

I wonder if I can move as slow as a snail
if I can be as industrious as an ant
if I can be as patient as a tree
if I can be as playful as a dolphin
if I can fly as freely as a butterfly
if I can be as human as a me
and simultaneously just be.

Fill your glass

Change is in the air.  Everywhere.  In all my worlds, things are a’changing.

My experience with change is that when we open up to it with all its uncertainty and instability and rockiness, we emerge on the other side of the rainbow.  Things are different here.  Weird, uncomfortable, vulnerable, brand-new.

Embracing change goes against my nature, but it gets easier and easier every time.  Life is constantly changing, so to fight change would make for a very difficult life.

This is not so much a the-glass-is-half-full approach as it is a fill-the-glass-up approach.  Your glass is your life.  Fill it up.  Drink it up.

There are going to be layoffs at work.  Everywhere I walk I hear mumbling about it.  I hear fear.  Fear of the unknown, fear of the unsecure, fear of losing everything.  My mind wants to join in the mumbling.

I walked outside for lunch.  The sun was shining in a cloudless sky, the wind was blowing wildly.  The richness and beauty of the day blew me away.

Life will fill you up and empty you out over and over again.  It is the natural cycle of things.  Within that cycle we have choices.  I choose to focus on the huge room for growth change brings with it.

The possibilities are endless.

I will rise to the occasion of my life.

In yoga you’re often encouraged to set an intention before class.  It can be broad and vague or quite specific. Some examples would be clarity, freedom, or phrases such as, I will embrace life wildly.

In my early days of intention-setting I would often have the same intention for months.  Presence.  It was what resonated with me.  Not living For the Now, but In the Now.  Presence, grounding, strength.  After some time, without really thinking about it, that particular intention faded away, having served its purpose.

One day while attempting a home practice and after struggling for some time with what my intention would be, I reached deep into my subconscious.  What came to me was:

I will rise to the occasion of my life.

It was true, it was real, and it was scary.  It was my intention for a good year, on and off the mat, and constantly reminded me of how I would get through whatever challenge I was presented with, physically, emotionally, or mentally.  It still is my intention, but it became so deeply rooted in me that I found it, too, started to fade away, having served its purpose.

Lately I am fascinated with intentions such as clarity, expansion, truth… and looking back on previous intentions I’m starting to appreciate the power of repetition, good or bad.

I will rise to the occasion of my life.  Every day.
I am rising to the occasion of my life.  Today.