And So We All Grow

the days go by slower and slower,

and still they seem to be gone in a swallow.

the sun rises, the sun sets,

the tides ebb, the tides flow,

the moon waxes, the moon wanes.

the same cycles over and over again,

and yet,

we are never the same person,

over and over again.

we say we haven't changed,

but we always are,

we always do.

we say we want things to remin the same.

we say we want stability.

what we want is change because what we want

is growth.

but remember when we were growing up

and our bones hurt

because they were growing

and changing?

that's the way of life.

it's not meant to feel good all the time,

it's meant to be lived.

we go through life standing up and sitting down

and building up and tearing down

and sitting still and standing tall

and raising fists and raising masks.

we are who we are each day and on and on,

and that person is never again

the same as we are right now.

we are like the glass of wine that is different with each sip,

as each moment the air changes the flavor of the grape.

the layers are exfoliated by oxygen and movement,

and oh so are we.

something is wrong when we want things to stay the same,

when the status quo is enough,

when it's all we strive for.

something is right when we're in search of something more,

something greater,

something different.

we are not unhappy with who we are or where we are,

we are simply curious beings, and want to know what else is out there.

we want to know how things work,

understand the meaning of the unknowns of the world.

this does not make us pessimists or unfaithful,

this makes us the curious children we were born as,

and maybe some of us

just forgot how to be curious.

maybe it felt good to know something

and so we got stuck in knowing

and being inside the box of understanding

what was happening.

and so we got comfortable and set up camp

and forgot it was camp,

and stayed forever.

we are living in our mud walls,

thinking they are concrete.

the walls of our minds are not concrete,

they are matter.

they are fluid.

they are ever changing and curious.

they are always seeking more.

they are always hungry for what's next.

and we are not dissatisfied when we are curious about what else is out there,

we are in fact so satisfied,

that we can't help but want more of that satisfaction

of finding out

what else will work

in our lives.

i believe this with every fiber of my being.

so this is the way of the world.

curiosity.

the river flowing, up and down and in and out.

the river dries up, the river overflows.

the river beholds an ancient truth of allowing what is to be, and seeing what else is up around the bend.

the river is all knowing and wise.

and it is fed by its mother,

the ocean,

and it feeds its mother,

the ocean.

and it all comes from the same place,

the wonderful vast universe of water and evaporation

and clouds and rain,

the cycle that began it all that we know almost nothing about,

it would seem.

and so we wonder,

what is next

and because we don't know,

we have fear

because we have forgotten what it's like to be

curious.

we have been taught to fear the unknown,

rather than embrace it.

we associate the unknown with dark alleys

and scary men with no boundaries.

we associate the unknown with lies and bitterness

and fake smiles to take something from us.

it's not that we ought to believe everything we hear,

or walk down every dark alley.

it's that we ought to trust ourselves,

our gut,

our intuition,

and still

move forward.

maybe it means choosing a different walkway or person to work with,

but it can't mean choosing the same old familiar things

day in and day out

simply because it's what we know.

when we set out to strand ourselves on an island of the unknown,

bring with us those things, those people that are familiar to us,

that give us comfort.

and so we still grow,

we still change,

and we grow

with those familiar people,

with those comforts of home,

and so they grow, too.

and so we all grow.

30 Minutes

I'm in the middle of so many things I can hardly keep myself sane. I'm updating my Twitter and Facebook accounts, and redesigning my coaching website. I'm creating a brand for myself and my coaching company, Authentic Realities Coaching (actually, I'm having someone else create it and I'm just approving it). I'm working on a coaching workshop on coming out for the LGBTQ community (and friends and families of). I'm building my coaching practice (2 clients and counting). And I'm working on the book with a deadline of July 31st to finish draft #6 and have it ready to be edited.

I've barely been able to find the time to relax, which has taken its toll on me in the form of sleepless nights. I've been waking up at 1AM, 3AM and around 5:30AM just about every morning. This week my coach is working with me on self care. Self. Care. How do I care for myself when I'm spending so much time caring for...not even for people, but all these things? And it's not like these things aren't things I want, but they're taking so much time out of my day, I don't have time to just sit and relax and be...or do I?

I've planned on taking 30 minutes every day that's just for me. Which is something I've had posted in my calendar for some time. It shows up as "Dian Time" and when the reminder pops up, I've been promptly dismissing it and getting back to whatever I'm doing. So it's time to start honoring that schedule. And how do I do that?

For me, it's about making clear exactly what I plan to do in my 30 minutes of Dian Time. So on Monday it was "plant cactus," which meant that I spent 30 minutes planting cacti I bought over the weekend to replace several plants that Jackson decided were planted for him as midday snacks. It took me about 15 minutes, so I then allowed myself to sit in the sun in the back yard and just relax. What a notion.

Yesterday my Dian time was "meditation." Now I didn't meditate for 30 minutes, but I did meditate for 10 minutes. And then went outside and soaked up the sun again. And enjoyed my newly planted cacti (after putting up a fancy wire blockade around the edges so a certain puppy wouldn't have easy access).

And today my plan is to walk on the beach. I have a meeting in Manhattan Beach at noon and immediately thereafter, I will be putting my toes in the sand and breathing in the ocean air and letting the energy of the earth rise through my body from the warm sand and rejuvenate my soul.

I figure with all this life going on around me, the least I can do is to take a few minutes each day to really enjoy it and not get so caught up in living the good life that I miss it as it passes me by.

What Is It That I Really Want?

I've read two books in the last two days, and hope to finish a third by tonight. The first was The Dip, which I've already given my thoughts on. The second was The Old Man and the Sea. This book was sent to me with a note attached: "word economy = nobel prize"... after reading, I can attest that this is true. And the third book of the week is An Exact Replica Of A Figment Of My Imagination. This one was also sent with a note: "how to turn journalizing into a Bestseller."  This is what I hope my book to be; not in content, but in concept.

In my Coaches Training this past weekend I received a lot of 10-minute coaching sessions. While the coaching was practiced by novices, it was led by experts. And as a result, I received some amazing coaching, as the essence of coaching is to allow the client (me) to answer his/her (my) own questions and draw his/her (my) own conclusions as to necessary action (if any) in his/her (my) life. In one of these sessions I focused on what I want people to get out of my writing; essentially: why am I writing? There were as many moments of silence as can occur in ten minutes during that session. In my memory, at least.

I tasked myself with trying to put into words what I want people to get out of my writing. I agreed to make a list of no less than ten things I wanted people to understand. I came up with things like: connect with emotions, relate experiences, embody change, and find yourself through my emotions. It all made sense at the time I wrote it down, but still I couldn't capture what I really wanted to say. And then I started reading this book. An Exact Replica...

The book is about the experience of the author's first child being stillborn and moving forward in life to have a second child that people will always see as her first. I'm only half way through it, and already I can relate to her. Not because I've endured a stillborn child; I've never even been pregnant. But the author has these emotions, these feelings, these thoughts, these rants that are so much in the moment of how she feels, how can I possibly not relate? As a writer, I've always been encouraged to show, not tell. So let me show you what I mean.

I have this idea that we are all humans and we all experience the same core emotions humans are capable of experiencing. Anger. Happiness. Sadness. Fear. And the varying fractions and multiples of each that lead us to frustration and despair and hysteria and joy and jumping up and down for such things and crying happy tears and tears of pain and regret and sorrow and faith and raising a fist to God and demanding to know why, why, for the love of God, why? The circumstances that lead us to these emotions and these actions are always different, as we are all unique. But the emotions themselves are what we all feel, what we can all relate to. 

This is what I wish to capture in my writing. 

Healing Balance

I'm a big believer in energy and balance and using energy to create balance. I believe that thinking positively brings me closer to happiness. I believe that being around positive energy and people contributes to my own happiness. I believe that negative energy gets trapped in our bodies and unless given an escape route--massage, exercise, sex, hiking, softball, dancing, crying (to name a few)--that this negative energy manifests. Manifests into sore muscles and knots. Colds and flus. Maybe even cancers. That's what I believe.

Today was Day 1 of my Coaches Training. It was...an amazing and humbling experience. I think I could actually feel myself grow. In one workshop I was called on to coach someone while the other 20-some-odd people listened with intent to give feedback. I could feel the redness in my face, the tenseness of my muscles, and worse, I could hear myself flounder as the words began to form mid-air and make nearly no sense at all as they flew across the room. And I couldn't get them back. This is supposed to be your big calling, and you've buckled under pressure. That little voice in my head that keeps me from accomplishing all of my dreams started to stir. And then a funny thing happened. I told her to go away.

It felt odd. Strange. Out of the normal. Not right. Uncomfortable. I felt downright crazy for talking to myself in that moment, even if it was only in my head. For a moment I was afraid I'd spoken out loud. I looked around, and by that time, eyes were on the next would-be-coach. I took a deep breath, and as soon as they called for a break I bolted upright and headed for the bathroom to regain my composure. As I stood washing my hands, almost ready to go back into the fire pit, a woman approached me to tell me she liked where I was going with the questions I asked. She wanted to work with me on the next exercise. Huh. "Well sure", I said, all smiles. I might be able to do this...

I went back into the room and spoke to the woman I had a part in coaching. I thanked her for allowing me to be a part of her process. She smiled and leaned in for a hug. She made sure to lean her head to the right, so my head was over her left shoulder. I remember from a seminar of Dr. Wayne Dyer's that this has something to do with energy and the heart. And then she hugged me. This was no ordinary hug. She took long, deep, slow breaths in and let them out just the same. I could tell because two or three of my breaths equalled one of hers. And then it hit me: slow down. Absorb her energy.

She held tight to my frame and I began to release the tension in my neck. Next was the tension in my back. And arms. And chest. My breaths had become slow like hers, and I was nearly on pace with her, almost without trying. I could feel the tears rolling down my cheeks. I was in the middle of the "classroom" and no less than 15 people were in the room. And I had tears rolling down my cheeks, not caring who saw. This moment was for me, and not for them.

As we separated, I thanked her again, but this was for something different. I felt a shift, as she called it. A shift in my energy, from negative to positive. I don't mean to say that all of my negative energy was released, but I do mean to say that some of it was. I felt it actually leave my body. Through the hug, through my pores, through my tears. And that was enough release, enough energy, enough balance to get me through the rest of the night.

Volunteer Client Needed

Next weekend I'm starting my first Coaches Training Institute Co-Active Coaching Course, and am super excited! According to the "syllabus," the second night's homework will be to coach a client in a half-hour or one-hour appointment, which can be in person or over the phone. I'll need to get it scheduled prior to the beginning of my course on Saturday, Feb 21, 2009 (10:00am PST). The appointment will need to be scheduled for sometime between 6:00pm-11:00pm PST on Feb 21, since I'll need to report back on the experience on the following day.

The “client” should be a volunteer client, not an existing client, nor should he/she be a spouse, partner, close family member or close personal friend.

This caveat limits participation in my homework assignment to people I don't know (or at least, don't know well), and expands my opportunity to meet new people and really get my feet wet in this new career. While I'm just beginning my professional coaching career, I feel like I've been preparing for this my entire life. I'm excited to finally dive in and begin co-creating paths to success and personal fulfillment!

What is Co-Active Coaching?

Co-Active Coaching has impacted the lives and careers of thousands of managers, leaders, and coaches around the world. It has led to the first ICF accredited coach training program, the most widely used text book in coaching, the largest number of certified coaches globally and a powerful, experiential leadership program that unlocks participants' unique and natural leadership strengths.

CTI coaching holds that people are naturally creative, resourceful, whole, and completely capable of finding their own answers to whatever challenges they face. The job of a Co-Active Coach® is to ask powerful questions, listen and observe to elicit the skills and creativity a client already possesses, rather than instruct or advise.

To train successful coaches, CTI uses an approach that includes four key elements:
1) In-depth, in-person Co-Active training
2) Professional practicum leading to certification
3) Business/entrepreneurial skills development
4) Supportive community of coaches.

If you're interested in becoming a volunteer client, and the date/timeframe above works for you, please contact me at dian at dianreidwrites.com to set up an appointment. I'm sure I will need plenty  of volunteer clients as my education continues, so please contact me if you'd like to participate in a future assignment, or even just get some free coaching in while I'm learning. While these assignments are required in my education, please know that any persons participating as a volunteer client will not be obligated to participate in ongoing sessions.  

I look forward to hearing from anyone who's looking to grow!!

On Writing and Failure

This morning I decided to actually read through the 103 pages of the original draft of 7 Days. I vaguely remember discarding the hard copy a few months ago, thinking, I'm never gonna use any of this, which means I had to reprint it. There's something about being able to physically see the words on the page that makes me feel like the writing is real...as if it's all fake when it's sitting on the screen in front of me. 

As I read through the first chapter, I realized that it's all crap. It's not that everything is useless, it's that I can't use most of what was written. It's frustrating to see 103 pages of writing in front of me--writing that took me months to complete--and realize that I can't use but a few sentences. I guess the silver lining is going through the process. 

If I hadn't written those pages, I wouldn't know what was on them. Having gone through the experience, I can play with what was written, pull out the chunks that work, and see where to go from here. 

In my Life Coach training (really just the book I've been reading, Co-Active Coaching, as classes don't start until Feb 21st), I've been learning that failure is a necessity for success and the importance of celebrating failure.

In order to take the risks that will enable them to walk and run in their lives, clients must be willing to glop, fall, and get back up and learn fro the experience. ... Whether a person fails or succeeds, one of the underlying goals is always to look at the learning that results from the experience.

I can choose to look at the 103 pages of nearly useless material as failure, or I can choose to celebrate the 103 pages and learn from everything within them. As I'm reading through each chapter of the draft, I'm pulling out the nuggets and making notes and getting ideas on how to move forward. I'm realizing that without thinking about it, I'm choosing to celebrate the failure of a partial manuscript that doesn't work as is and work towards something that's not only readable, but meaningful.

Meditation

I'm truly in awe of this meditation thing. I can't seem to do two days in a row, at least not for any great length of time because, so far, each meditation has been such a powerful experience. I suppose with time I will have less to release, maybe less tension and more balance, and the meditations will serve as turning the covers rather than building the bed. 

Today's mediation was, again, focused on releasing the old and making room for the new. Aside from a quick peek 30 seconds into the meditation (it was actually on accident), I was able to keep my eyes closed without much effort. The hard part wasn't even keeping still, but sitting up straight and maintaining good posture. Maybe that will also come in time. As for the ease of the eyes and the stillness, I think I can comfortably attribute that to giving meditation the proper respect when sitting down with it. 

In the past I've believed that I couldn't do it. That it wouldn't work. That it was silly. That it was for other people, but not for me. That I'd have to be far to existential in order for meditation to work for me. That I'd have to wear long, flowing dresses in the wind and linen shirt/pant suits in order to really grasp the concept. Essentially, I accepted any excuse for not meditating.

And now that I've begun to make a (semi) habit of it, I'm finding that if I just let myself go, let myself think, the meditation does the rest. Elizabeth Gilbert talks a little bit about this in her book, Eat, Pray, Love, and maybe that's what allowed me to give meditation a chance. Apparently, just like everything else in life, meditation takes practice. 

So I will continue to sit in silence with myself and my thoughts, and be open to the idea that meditation is not just for enlightened people, but regular city folk like me, as well. And maybe, just maybe, one day I'll be able to get lost in myself so deeply that an hour or two goes by and my eyes don't even think about peeking.

Visions of Inspiration, Update

This week I'll be posting some house updates (the physical inspection is today at noon), as well as an excerpt from 7 Days. In the meantime, I'm going to share with you my updated Vision Statement. This first month of 2009 has been a whirlwind of excitement, and I hope the rest of the year brings more. So to get myself in the mood, I've improved upon my last Vision Statement (I think) and hope it inspires you to create or update your own.

Enjoy!

If you don't see the video here, go here. 

Whole Release Meditation

I can never seem to block out any of the noise outside my head, let alone the stuff going on inside. And I can never seem to sit still for more than seven minutes at a time. Or keep myself from opening my eyes every three or five or eight minutes. Or every thirty seconds wondering how long it's been since the last time I looked.

I just meditated for 30 minutes for the first time in my life. I wish I could say that I meditated for a solid thirty minutes with none of the aforementioned distractions, but that's not entirely the case. The first time I looked, it had been one minute. The next, six minutes. The next, four. And then I made an executive decision that no matter what, I would not look again. And I didn't.

My iPod brought a meditation track of rain falling on a porch into my ears. The track is twenty-nine minutes and fifty-eight seconds long. Which means that for somewhere around nineteen minutes I did not open my eyes. And after making my shut-eye decision, I also managed to keep the fidgeting to a minimum, regardless of the pretzel position my lower limbs had been forced into.

The purpose of this meditation was to release. Release. Release what? That's what the mediation was to find out. I've been making so many changes in my life so quickly this year that I need to make room for all this new energy in my body. Which means I need to release the old energy. The stale energy. The toxic energy—the energy that has long since served its purpose and is now ready to move on (and probably has been ready for quite some time).

Behind my eyelids flowed dark shades of yellow and purple and blue and red. Lines and shapes formed and faded, swayed and bowed, ebbed and flowed. It's rare that I visualize a familiar face or place, but I did recognize this as a dreamlike state. What I saw before me was energy. Pure and simple, energy flowing right before my eyes.

With the rain falling in my ears, I breathed in and out, in and out, in and out. I tried to focus on breathing into my diaphragm and not just my lungs, but I admit I'm a novice and caught myself with tense shoulders and a pregnant chest of air I would not allow full access to. And just as I inhaled, I exhaled as well, trying to time the in equal to the out, also mildly successful. The whole process seemed to mirror my life in the way I take things on and sometimes refuse to let go, even when I know that it's best—even when I've set out to simply let go. And so I regrouped (again and again) and practiced breathing in and out, in and out.

As I began my meditation, I inhaled to "Re-" and exhaled to "lease". Re-lease. Re-lease. And at some point the words changed to "Let. Go" Let go. Breath in, Let. Breath out, Go. In, Let. Out, Go. And after I committed to myself that my eyes would not open and I would give my full attention to this exercise, something amazing happened; I began to let go.

Tears found a crack in the bottom my closed eyelids, and slowly seeped through. I first began to think about my mom, which passed quickly and made space for my dad. I've made peace with my father's death, and still with every new step forward I make in my life, I forge a path that somehow leads both away from and right to him. Buying a house is a big deal and the one person I could count on to fix anything I brought to him had graduated me to a life without him. Graduated: I've learned what I needed to, and now it's time to move forward. The tears for this part were short and sweet, and I started to think letting go would be easy. And then I thought about Alison.

The tears no longer seeped. In the quietest way possible, they exploded from me and rolled one after another down my cheeks. Some touched the corner of my lips as they passed by, some rolled just to one side or the other as they found a way to cling to the bottom of my chin before dripping into my lap. And others still, skipped all that and jumped straight from my flared cheeks onto my thighs.

I sobbed as I thought about the way things ended and how I'd behaved. And while I've come to terms with the fact that the end was completely necessary, I've allowed the guilt to linger unwanted in the walls of my heart, my lungs, my everything that keeps me sane and alive. This guilt I hold dear and nurture it daily, quietly, methodically. Somehow I've allowed myself to believe that I do not deserve to be forgiven for my actions, now so far away. And a voice rings loud and true: Let. Go.

In the middle of the apartment with the dog sleeping quietly in front of the door and the cats sleeping religiously on their king bed (which I seem to have purchased for them), I cried out loud for what seemed like an eternity. And then all at once, I was done. Calm swept over and through me. It seemed to actually come from within. I concentrated again on my breathing, in and out, in and out. Let and Go, Let and Go, Let and Go.

I sat and breathed for the rest of the twenty-nine minutes and fifty-eight seconds in silence. I thought about what it all meant. It wasn't a matter of mourning the loss; I made my peace with the absence of her in my life long ago. It wasn't about wanting her to forgive me or my actions; I've resolved to be indifferent to her view of me and who I am. As I followed the energy across my eyelids and the calmness throughout my being, I realized it didn't have anything to do with her, per se. It had to do with forgiveness.

It's been written that:

To accept ourselves is not necessarily to like what we did or to approve of it, but rather to forgive ourselves. To forgive, in Sanskrit, is to untie—when we forgive we untie an emotional knot and unclog the emotional system.

What I experienced was an emotional unclogging of my soul. I had been holding on to resentment of myself for actions that had long since been acted out. I have moved on in my life, my relationship, my love—of others, but not of myself! Forgiveness is not about saying it's okay, it's about learning and moving forward. I had learned. I had moved on. But I failed to acknowledge those things and truly believe about myself that I deserved the happiness that came so soon after the turmoil I'd created. And now it all made sense.

The rain slowed in my ears. The breathing slowed in my belly. And the calm cemented itself deep in my body, in every part. The calm had replaced the fear, the disdain, the anger, the guilt that had been residing, hiding in the dark comfort of my shadowed self. And at some point the words that flowed in and out with every breath changed from Let Go to Feel Whole. I had released my toxic energy and in its place was the whole of myself.

It's nice to see her again.

More Risk, Comin' Right Up!

Risk #1 was making a decision to stay out of the corporate life and pursue a Life Coach Certification this year while continuing to work on my book. Risk #2 was to be a small risk, like going to a new hair stylist to get my hair cut (which I'm still resisting because I love where I get my hair cut, she's just so far away), talking to a neighbor I've never talked to (which I did, but it was only to tell him to shut the after-hours party down--twice), or play a game I've never played. 

But instead of any of those things, we decided to buy a house. And when we make a decision, we don't mess around. Within 48 hours there was a pre-approval on a loan (and a limit set for what we can really afford versus what the loan tells us we can afford). Within 48 hours of that, we went house hunting and found a house we actually want to put an offer on. And as of this morning, we're waiting another 48 hours to find out if our offer gets accepted, rejected, or countered. 

Yesterday morning I talked with my life coach about getting out of your own way. I first heard this term a few years back and I've always liked the idea. The idea that no one but me holds me back from getting what I really want. 

Jerry & Esther Hicks write:

Everything that I think that I need to do is all only in order to propel me to some place that when I get there, I think I will be happier. So, everything that I am doing, no matter what it is, all of my lists of rights and wrongs… are all about me getting to a manifestation that I believe I will then be happier... So, why don’t I take a short cut and just go get happy?

It's easy to wait for someone or something to come along and "make me happy". But in the end, it's really all about what I choose. Happiness is all in the hands of whom they're attached. If all I concentrate on are the things I don't have, then this remains my focus and I have little energy left for the things I want. When I focus on the things I want, I can always figure out a way to get what I want. I just have to stop resisting myself. 

There are probably 1,000+ reasons not to buy a house right now. The market is still going down. I don't have an income. My investments took a dive in the end of 2008. We're not married. We just got a dog. I stubbed my toe this morning. We can afford our rent. We like this neighborhood. We can't afford our dream house. We've never bought a house before. It's a pain in the ass to move. My toe still hurts....

I've done focusing on those things...and those things still remain true as long as I do. The market is pretty close to the bottom and will be on the upswing in the next year or two. My investments are still working well for me, including the investment I've made in myself. We're pretty solid, even if we're not married yet, we'll get there. The dog needs a yard. I hadn't thought about the toe until I just brought it up. Rent doesn't get us equity in this apartment building. We have cars that will drive us back to this neighborhood should we move out of it. We can afford a starter house and work our way up to our dream house. First time buyer programs will eliminate us from being first time buyers. Moving still sucks, but that's what movers are for. And toes...toes heal.

So with that, risk#2 of 2009 was actually putting an offer in on a house. We asked the Universe for an opportunity in this market to purchase a home in a good neighborhood that we'll be happy in for at least a few years (and maybe a few more details I'll keep to myself). The Universe responded with some options and waited for us to take action. Our action may not end with putting the offer in...we may have to up the offer to get into this house (as there are multiple offers on it already), or we may get outbid entirely. And then we'll move on to the next house...pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and start all over again. It's such a great process to learn. 

I had no idea this year was going to be so exciting. And we're not even through January yet!

So cheers to us for getting out of our own way...I encourage you to do the same!!

Inquiry: Taking Risks

I seldom take risks. I mean, I take them, but only after a great deal of thinking and convincing myself that the world isn't going to fall apart if I go ahead and _____. One of those risks was leaving the safety of my corporate job of nearly 8 years to pursue a dream of writing a book. The thing is, that may have been the last professional risk I've taken. And that was over 2 years ago.

Risk is defined as:

"exposure to the chance of injury or loss; a hazard or dangerous chance: It's not worth the risk."

But life is lived and things accomplished only when taking risks, some might say:

I am always doing that which I cannot do, in order that I may learn how to do it.  ~Pablo Picasso

Progress always involves risks.  You can't steal second base and keep your foot on first.  ~Frederick B. Wilcox

You'll always miss 100% of the shots you don't take.  ~Wayne Gretzky

A ship in harbor is safe - but that is not what ships are for.  ~John A. Shedd, Salt from My Attic

Nothing will ever be attempted, if all possible objections must be first overcome.  ~Samuel Johnson, Rasselas, 1759

It's not enough to dream about the things I want to do, I must take action if I want any of those dreams to come true. Last week my life coach challenged me to take one risk. Now I must figure out a risk to take. Do I even have any risks lined up? Is there anything I've been holding off on for the fear of it?

Risk is not about doing things that doesn't make sense. It's not about doing something just because I'm scared. I'm not about to jump out of a plane just yet. To me, risk is doing something that moves me forward when the only thing holding me back is fear. With that in mind, I will...

_________________________________________

I started writing about a project I want to work on and the words came out with too much effort. So I stepped away to gain some perspective. By stepped away I mean I sat right here in my chair. And by gain some perspective I mean I journaled for 30 minutes on why I'm feeling so much anxiety in my life right now. 

The money I'd set aside for the past 2 years is gone. I'm concerned about finding a job. I've been looking, but nothing has even remotely sparked my interest. But of course, that's not true. I've had thoughts for the last two years about becoming a life coach. I researched it in November 2006 after leaving my job the month prior. And I let that information sit, unreviewed for the last 25 months. Why?

Because if I enroll in a program to become a Certified Life Coach, then I will have finish that course. And then I'll have to be a Certified Life Coach. I will have to get clients. I will have to coach them. I will have to inspire them. I will have to impart words of wisdom they've never heard before and be the greatest person they ever met. I will have to be the person they owe everything to...but wait...that's just too much pressure. What if I didn't have to be all those things?

What if I just take the course? What if I pass the exams and get a Certificate? What if I end up at a party and someone asks what I do for a living and I tell them I'm a Life Coach? What if that intrigues them and we talk a bit more? What if they ask me to coach them based on that conversation? What if they accomplish some goals as a result of our sessions? What if they refer me to a friend? What if this becomes a pattern and I can make a living out of helping people accomplish their goals? 

With this in mind, I've decided that the best risk I can take to better myself and release the fears in doing so is to make an investment in myself. I've researched certification programs and chosen a program. This morning after my life coach session I enrolled with Coaches Training Institute, and my courses begin on Friday, February 20, 2009. Which means that by this time next year, I will be a Certified Life Coach, as recognized by the International Coach Federation. Good God, I feel liberated!!

I've also been tasked to keep this excitement alive by taking another risk this week. I've confirmed that a small risk is okay, given the huge risk I've just taken...so maybe I'll golf at night. Or play a game I've never played or know I'm not good at. Or talk to a neighbor I've never talked to. Whatever the risk, I want to make sure I'm expanding myself in some way that's in alignment not with who I am, but with who I want to be. 

After all, isn't growth the whole point of risk?

_________________________________________

And what risk will you take this week?

Visions of Inspiration, Update

I posted my Vision Statement a couple of months ago and have been watching this every so often to keep myself motivated to accomplish everything I want to. I started out watching every morning, but have since allowed myself to slip into watching once a week, if that. So I'm making a commitment to myself to watch every morning for the rest of the month. The goal is to create a habit of watching everyday so that it will no longer be something I think about doing, but will occur without thought, just as my morning cup of coffee does. 

I've decided to update the Vision every 6 months, for several reasons. 

• 6 months is just often enough to keep the visions in the forefront of my mind, should I fall to the wayside and watch sporadically versus daily.
  
• I can reevaluate my visions and make sure everything from 6 months ago is still a priority--I've given myself permission to add and delete as priorities tend to shift with the ongoing changes in life. 
  
• Once I've accomplished things, I can also move Visions from the "What I Want" list to the "What I've Done" list. It's a simple gratification system that allows me to acknowledge some of the things that I feel good about having done or accomplished.

I recently went through some photos to remind myself of some of the things I've been able to do and accomplish in my life. Time flies so quickly sometimes, whether in good or bad times, and it's easy to forget some of the great things I've been able to do in my short life. Maybe it's that way for you, too. The photos I put together range from being brought home from the hospital after being born to graduating to traveling Japan and Europe to sunsets and skylines and random happy moments along the way. Maybe it will inspire you to create your own!

I've set it to the music of Dave Matthews Band's "Lie In Our Graves", which seems to compliment and relay my sentiments quite well. Enjoy!

And here's a link, if you don't see the video above. 

Burglary Thwarted

I heard my neighbor's door bell ring. And ring. And ring and ring and ring some more. Sitting in my living room workstation, I said aloud, "Who the hell is ringing the doorbell incessantly?!" and got up to check it out. By the time I walked the 5 steps to the door and peeked out, I only caught a glimpse of a sandy-blondish man walking hastily away from the apartment complex. 

No more than a minute later, I heard the ringing again. Without a word, I peeked out the door again. The same man stood outside my next door neighbor's (we'll call her Delilah) door, knocking and ringing the doorbell. Dirty mustard color shirt, dirty khaki shorts, dirty scruffy face. Something in my gut did not like that man. But I couldn't quite put my finger on what I didn't like, aside from him being a dirty man knocking on my neighbor's door.

Unrelated, I decided to move my car from the garage to the street for Erin so she'd have a space to park when she got home from work. When I stepped out my door the same man was again walking away from the apartment complex, just past my neighbor (we'll call her Petunia) who lives just across the courtyard. I walked to the back of the complex where the garage is and proceeded to move my car to the front of the building. 

As I pulled into a space just in front of the building I see the same man reaching over the bushes just outside Delilah's window. He sees me and starts walking away. I get out of my car and walk towards him. He rushes to a bright red Ford extra cab pickup and gets in. As I'm processing what I'm seeing--the corner of Delilah's window screen cut out and this man fleeing the scene--the man starts the truck, backs up and drives down the street. My heart racing, still processing everything, I run into the street and look at his license plate. A hitch is in the middle of the plate, but I can still read it: 8B86446.

I repeat this number in my head over and over and over again all the way back to my apartment. I knock on Petunia's door to see if she has Delilah's phone number. I call the police and Petunia gets a hold of Delilah. We wait for the police and Delilah to arrive. I give my statement to the officers and Delilah and her husband check their apartment to see if anything is missing. Nothing. A report is filed and the officers leave. All is well. With one exception: Delilah and her family will now be moving.

They have a sub-1-year old baby and value the safety of that baby, so unfortunately for all of us in the building who enjoy her fresh baked cookies (which were a factor in the attempted break in, as the window was left open to cool them while she went to the market, child in tow) they are looking for a safer place to live.

While Delilah was grateful that not only was I home and my presence stopped the guy from breaking in, but that I took the time to get a plate number, contact her and call the police. I know there are people that wouldn't have done that, but I can't imagine being one of those people. I did it partially because Delilah is my neighbor and friend, and partially because it was my building this man was attempting to break into. If one apartment is unsafe, we all are unsafe. 

I'm not saying I would have chased the guy down, but it really took no more than a few seconds to get that guy's plate number and call it in. A few more minutes to give a statement to the police. But it gave Delilah and her family at least some peace of mind knowing that the people she lives with are good, kind people. And saved her the stress of having to live in a place with her child that had actually been broken into. I'm just happy I helped. 

Let this just be a reminder that some people like to take what's not theirs. So lock your doors and windows when you're not around, and be aware of suspicious activity when you are around. I hope it's all for not, but better safe than sorry. 

The Human Soul Project

A little over a year ago I started a project with my best friend. We had the best of intentions, but a little dash of turmoil, a sprinkle of chaos, and a whole lot of "holy crap, what now" and voila: project on hiatus before it really got started. 

I just finished reading The Power of Focus by Jack Canfield, and am re-inspired to stop doing things that don't inspire me and start doing things that do. And with that, I'm revamping The Human Soul Project. Briefly, the Project is looking for coming out stories that inspire the soul. For details, visit http://humansoulproject.blogspot.com.

I'm in the process of contacting Jack Canfield's office to see if this idea can be added to The Chicken Soup for the Soul series. A small note: the submission guidelines for stories suggest that Chicken Soup for the Soul(tm) stories are "NOT" about controversial issues. Coming out is for sure controversial, but the guidelines also specify that the story must "uplift and inspire." Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, is it not? In the meantime, the plan is to take submissions from readers and writers everywhere, and get it published ourselves.

What would inspire me to start such a project?

I remember the fear I had of coming out to my father in my mid-twenties. He had become a born again Christian by then, which was probably my main fear in telling him. I'd always known him to be a decent guy. Only once did I ever see him truly angry, and that was to come to my defense when he felt my grandfather was attacking me. I had no reason to believe that he would be angry with me, disown me, stop loving me, or think less of me in any way. But there it was. The fear that all these things would come true. I feared that his love of God would overrule his love for me, and that I would no longer be deserving of my father's love once I told him I was gay. It took me nearly 2 years to work up the courage after using excuse after excuse for not telling him. And when I finally did, my fears were unfounded.

My father and I dialogued, although not regularly, about what he viewed as my "choice" to act on feelings for the same sex. As I was just trying to figure it all out for myself, it was difficult to explain it to someone else. And it took me years to be comfortable with who I knew myself to be, regardless of what others thought. Most of my friends were straight. My coworkers. My family. I had done all this searching for myself, my soul, my self and was discouraged by the misunderstanding of who I was by nearly everyone I knew. Sure there were people I knew of who were gay, but they weren't me. They didn't know what I was going through. They couldn't possibly. 

If I could have read stories about others who had come out, others who put their fears on paper, their doubts, and then detailed how they overcame those fears, detailed how they triumphed, how they survived, I might have found the strength to be honest not only with myself, but with my father much sooner than I was. I might have added 2 years to of understanding to our relationship had I found the strength to come out sooner. 

So if just one of the stories we end up publishing helps someone find that strength, then this is all worth it. The whole point of life is to live it, love it, and help others do the same. We are all human. We all have emotions. We all feel good, we all feel bad. And we all go through slumps. We all need to be uplifted, to be inspired...we all need to feel connected. And that's what the Human Soul Project is all about.

This first Project is about coming out. The next project will be about...well now, I can't give everything away. Let's see how this project goes and then we'll get started on the next one. What I can tell you is that the vision and purpose of the Human Soul Project will remain the same: to create inspiration for the Human Soul everywhere.