A Walk In The Woods

I went for a walk yesterday. I walked along a trail that I've walked many, many times before, though each time it's different. Yesterday I walked on snow packed down by many other travelers, melted by the sun and warm air and rain, refrozen by the return of winter. This cycle of snow and melt and freezing has been repeated for months, and now the trail is more ice than snow. Ice lumpy and bumpy with footprints, yet polished by the melts. Yesterday the smooth ice was coated with melt water. Slick and slippery, glistening in the sun. So I trod cautiously down my well-frequented trail.

In sections where the ice was not so icy, but rather softer and providing more traction, I relaxed into the wonderful afternoon sun, appreciating the lengthening days of approaching spring. I felt expansive and buoyant. I was taller than I've ever been. Perhaps even a foot taller. Anyhow, I was seeing and experiencing the world in a new way. I floated along the trail reveling in this sense of... strength? power? expansiveness.

At one point I was called down a side-trail that leads around the rock that the main trail, an old almost-rail-bed (the rail-line was never completed), is carved through. I walked on the river-side of the rock, along the side of a steep hill overlooking the river through the trees. There was a flat rock that offered me a seat. I accepted with deep gratitude. I sat looking at and through the trees, at the river running high with melt-water, at the reflections of the hill opposite me, at the sun slicing through the trees, at the ducks swimming to their nest in the downed trees and growth below me on the river. I breathed in all that there is.

When I was done sitting I continued on down to the bridge that crosses the river at the other end of the trail. I rarely go all the way across. I usually stop at the midpoint and watch the river. Some days it's all about the reflections on a glassy surface. Other days it's all about the interplay of ripples and wind and sun. Yesterday I watched the eddies that shed off the bridge pylon. I watched as some of them rolled onto their sides and surface like logs of water breaching the surface. I watched at flotsam was caught in the nearly still water in the lee of the pylon. I watched as it was slowly drawn upriver towards the bridge by the counter-currents driven by the marvelous hydrodynamics caused by the pylon. I watched until the flotsam was drawn out of it's gentle diversion, back into the main current and swept downstream.

As I journeyed back I found my trail lined by appreciative and encouraging supporters standing strong enjoying the afternoon as I was. I quietly, lovingly acknowledged the trees and reflected their appreciation. How lucky I am to have such wisdom surrounding me, to feel so a part of the wonders of nature.

Tonight it is raining. I love the sound of rain...

Not

I am not my mother’s daughter.
I am not my father’s daughter.
I am not my husband’s wife.
I am not my children’s mother.
I am not my sister’s sister.
I am not my ancestors’ descendant.
I am not my descendants’ ancestor.
I am not my friends’ friend.
I am not my adversaries’ nemesis.

I am my adversaries and my friends.
I am my descendants and my ancestors.
I am my sister, my father and my mother.
I am my children and my husband.

I am nothing.
And I am all that is.

Ripples

Let me explain. The woman on the left is me (that's the picture needs explaining). The woman on the right is Cindy Willick, a motivational speaker and friend from my life coach training. She posted a link to this video to our class forum at the beginning of January.

If you haven't watched it, do so now.

Isn't that the coolest? I love her. The exchange on our forum after I watched it went something like this:

Me: [blah, blah, blah, admiration and so on] I keep toying with the idea of putting on my bathing suit (and boots) and heading out for a picture in the snow to send to you! Of course, we're in for another ice storm tomorrow, and that's not quite the kind of glistening I want to do...

Cindy: I'm going to challenge to do just what you mischievously said you'd do: take a photo of yourself in a bathing suit + boots in the snow. Go for it!!!

(And you know me... I love a good, fun challenge.)

Me: (see above picture)

Yes, I put on my bathingsuit and went outside in the freezing rain (hence the umbrella) and actually posted the picture to our class forum. I also passed on the challenge to everyone in our class. I am disappointed to report that not one other person has followed up.

Anyway, I thought that was the end of it. I mean, maybe someday I'll get an actual mid-riff baring bikini and take a picture of myself in it and send that to her (or maybe the forum), but for now, that was that. Until today.

In the small talk before class the master coach conducting today's lesson mentioned that she had kept my photo on her computer to remind her to be TAO. That's the acronym we use for Transparent-Authentic-Open. I was stunned. Then another student mentioned that she has a friend who runs girl-empowerment seminars and that this woman was using my picture in presentations about media images of women (to counter those images I presume).

At first I was a bit embarrassed, but now, now I am just humbled. I never would have imagined that my act of silliness and courage would ripple so far. So I am inspired to be a little crazier and post that picture here. And to challenge all of you to take a picture of yourself in something that feels a bit too revealing to post on the web and send it to Cindy: cindy@cindywillick.com. Wouldn't it be incredible to see a photo montage, with fun music of course, of all sorts of people Baring It All?

Be more

The sun will not rise
any sooner
just because
you’re pushing
on the Earth.





I wrote that on December 4, 2008.

I'm still pushing on the Earth trying to get the sun to rise a little sooner.

Sometimes I manage to allow myself to live in the easy flow of life. That feels good. My life unfolds gracefully, in it's own time. I recognize that everything is happening at the perfect time, in a perfect way.

But more often I'm impatiently efforting towards some imagined destination. I'm not even sure what I'll do if I do get there. I don't think that there really is a there anyway. But I have to get there now, if not yesterday.

Do more. Something. Anything. Make things happen. Get there. Now.

And when I stop to consider just what it is I should do that would most effectively move me along toward whatever it is I am striving towards, I often find that the answer is "nothing". And so I glance at my bulletin board with phrases and passages of inspiration and read:

Do less. Be more.

Don't you think that would be great on a t-shirt?