The more you look, the less you see.”— Unknown
Years ago, when I was training for endurance horseback riding competitions, I couldn’t understand why my horse would spook at an object coming back on an out and back trail that he hadn’t spooked at when passing it going out. It was frustrating and at times unsettling – literally. He had seen it before so how did this seemingly benign object suddenly transition into a scary, horse-eating monster within an hours’ time? It turns out that for both humans and horses, the way in which we see things determines how we process and react to things. Several research studies have revealed that we, humans and horses, have a dominant eye. That eye, either left or right, will dominate over the other in seeing objects and in turn relay that visual information to the contralateral (opposite) brain hemisphere for processing. So, if we tend to be right eye dominant, the seen objects will be relayed to the left-brain hemisphere for processing and the opposite is true for left eyed dominants (right-brain hemisphere processing). This right-brain hemisphere is responsible for processing emotions while the left-brain hemisphere analyzes and categorizes visual information. In many creatures, scientists suggest that new and scary objects are mostly seen with the left eye and hence processed by the right-brain hemisphere. These research findings and my own life discoveries have heightened my awareness and understanding (and guilt for admonishing my horses’ reactions) of perspective; where I look and how I see affect my way of thinking, feeling, and behaving. I’ve journeyed towards a change of perspective simply by navigating a change of direction on a trail. Just as my horse experienced during our out and back trail conditioning, one direction reveals one trail, the other direction reveals another. “If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.” –Wayne Dyer This perspective epiphany was recently revisited when I was inspired to traverse one of my favorite mountain bike trails in “reverse.” This trail was “bi-directional,” meaning that it could, for traffic flow and safety, be traveled in either direction. I had been riding this trail in a counterclockwise direction for the past six months. I had grown accustomed to every switchback, hill, and descent. I knew where on the trail I needed to shift gears, stand and climb or lower my seat dropper and fly down the hills. Every obstacle was known and met with anticipation and preparation. However, when I reversed the direction of travel, the feelings of anticipation and preparation quickly dissolved. They were forcibly replaced with uncertainty. I found myself being more alert and attentive – steadying myself to face the unknown. Even though the trail on a map – either paper or electronic, shows the same distance and elevation traveled, the experience is anything but the same. Traversing clockwise reveals the other side of the trail, obstacles, hills – up and down, and switchbacks in different places with different pitches or degrees of elevation. What was a rocky, bumpy but flowy downhill counterclockwise, morphed into a technical, rock hopping and strategic line dependent trail clockwise. All these differences culminated in a more intense effort. After the first time I finished the trail in the “reverse” direction and my breath stabilized, I had the energy to reflect on my experience. I was astonished at how such a simple, implemented change agent (direction) resulted in such a profoundly different level of effort (intensity). I had taken more mini breaks, consuming more food and water than I ever had on my numerous travails counterclockwise. It was this epiphany and countless other life experiences that reminded me that the process of change takes time and resources. I’ve found that whether change is my choice or life’s, if I find the time to stabilize my breath and recruit my resources, the journey, while still intense, is more navigable. Once I’ve completed a particularly difficult journey, I stop and turn around. I look back on where I’ve come, give a sigh of relief and gratitude for the gift of perspective and all the entities who contributed – including my horses.
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“Nothing relieves and ventilates the mind like a resolution.” ~ John Burroughs
It’s February 2024. If you were amongst the 37% of the U.S. adult population who made goals or resolutions for the New Year, you may now, in February, find yourself in the good company of quitters. By the second week of January, and most certainly by February, 80% -90% of Americans who created New Year’s resolutions, find themselves quitting. In fact, if you are a short timer with goals, quitting your resolutions by the second Friday in January, there is something to celebrate - Quitter’s Day. However, if you have made it this far with your resolutions intact, you already knowingly or unknowingly have the substance that those other 80 to 90 percenters failed to fuel their resolutions. In the Winter Semester Business and Communications class at Northland Pioneer College’s Therapeutic Massage Program, the first assignment I had the students complete was a self-assessment. Within that self-assessment, they were tasked with discovering and writing about their purpose and priorities. In a class the previous semester, they had already identified their core values – the words that describe what is important or valuable to them. Businesses typically have these core values – or deeply ingrained principles that are supposed to guide all the company’s actions, on their social media platforms, websites, printed marketing materials, and walls, etc. Words such as authenticity, compassion, innovation, honesty, respect, service, and trust are commonplace. These core values, or principles, the students have defined will serve as a barometer or litmus test to whether a company, co-workers, peers, or clients are a good fit – regardless of place of employment or self-employment. While the students found defining their core values a challenge, crafting their purpose and priorities served to be even more difficult. This is a very understandable hurdle - it isn’t every day we stop to contemplate and sum up our unique contribution to this world in one sentence, let alone the priorities (or goals) that support it. I relayed to the students how this one sentence - a defined purpose, is applicable in the professional world, often finding its way into a business’s mission and vision statements. To help stimulate creative thought and to show an example, I shared my purpose, “I see potential” and my business’s mission statement, “Inspiring humans to fulfill and share their potential with the world” and vision statement, “To create a world full of inspired, engaged and fulfilled humans.” The purpose sentence in life or the mission statement in business helps direct focus and attention to what is important, either to the individual or the organization. The priorities, or goals of a person or business, are the barometers that provide assessment of those purpose sentences, mission, and vision statements. Goals, or priorities, measure individual or organizational success and ensure movement in a direction that supports and gives energy to the purpose statement or mission and vision statements. In short, goals are meant to be tied to a greater purpose. Considering this, along with one other important component, brings us back to addressing the 80 – 90 percenters who quit their resolutions by February. The important component this majority is missing in fulfilling or “fueling” their resolutions, is passion. Passion, as defined by Frederic M. Hudson and Pamela D. Mclean in their book, Life Launch: A Passionate Guide to the Rest of Your Life, “Your passions are your internal energy source, the fire or determination you have for reaching some destination up ahead.” Your passion will give you the internal resolve to overcome doubt, shame, fear, and other negative emotions that can show up when initiating change. It gives you a turbo boost to go over those hurdles, mountains, and energy to rebound from difficult conversations and people. Passion is the pivotal piece to the puzzle that contains core values, purpose, and priorities. To best teach my students and clients the power of purpose, priorities, and passion, I best put into practice my purpose, priorities, and passion. In the past month, I’ve been attempting this practice through my participation in the MBAA (The Mountain Bike Association of Arizona) XT mountain bike races. Despite earning medals in almost all the MBAA races I entered last year, I felt unsatisfied. My level of success wasn’t tied to a medal around my neck or my feet on a podium step but on the feeling of fulfilling my potential. So, this year, I put forth the attention and effort to make progress on my purpose. I implemented the techniques I coach my clients in when implementing change: identifying lesser strengths, construct and turn statements into questions related to those lesser strengths (get compassionately curious about becoming better), seek answers to those questions, develop strategies that support those answers, and then reassess the outcomes. I identified my lesser strengths: my spinning efficiency and cadence, proficiency in cornering and climbing, my conditioning and fitness and body balance on the bike. I then got compassionately curious in getting better by constructing questions around my lesser strengths. What do I need to adjust to spin efficiently and faster? What mind set do I need to conquer technical climbs and what does that feel like in my body? How can I center myself better around corners? I followed up with developing several strategies per question, implementing those strategies, and then reassessing the outcomes. I noticed a lot of positive changes and progress towards my purpose with the strategies I’ve implemented. There have been two races I’ve entered so far this year. In both races, even though I did earn a spot on the podium, I felt my best improvement was something that no one could see or measure, but that I could feel – how far I’m progressing towards my purpose and honestly expressing my passion. Those feelings contribute to my priorities of being a better friend, fourlegged kid mom, coach, teacher, and therapist. I look forward to the rest and best of 2024, far away from Quitter’s Day and closer to our purpose, priorities and passion. Resilience is a key component of a being’s ability to thrive - not just survive, but to grow, develop and prosper. Resilience contributes to mental, emotional, and physical well-being by supporting one through and helping bounce back from stressful and traumatic experiences. Ingredients necessary in building resilience early in life are a consistent and safe environment, accessible and healthy nutrients, and symbiotic relationships.
However, even if these essential resilience building blocks are absent early on in a human’s life, there is still hope in developing resilience. Implementing several skills can instill or reinforce existing levels of resiliency in an individual. These skills include practicing a positive perspective - focusing on what is going right and letting go of what is going wrong, reinforcing your trusted human resources, and expressing humility - asking for help when your personal mental, emotional, or physical assets are low. One of the premiere examples of resilience in the natural world is the alligator juniper. This slow growing tree, native to higher elevations in Arizona, is a presence here in the White Mountains. Alligator junipers’ resiliency begins early – from the seed. Studies have shown that high or alternating temperatures – freezing and thawing, destruction of the seedcoat, or exposure to chemicals had little effect on the seed’s germination. Sprouting – or the germination of the alligator juniper’s seed, can occur even if the aboveground vegetation has been scorched by fire. (An example of alligator juniper resiliency to fire that was aided in that effort in 2013 during the Doce Fire by the Granite Mountain Hotshots – rest in peace, is a juniper outside of Prescott reported to be over 1,000 years old.) Another contributing factor in the tree’s resiliency is its slow growing characteristic. This characteristic improves the tree’s ability to survive in rocky soil and arid environments, including short term droughts. An additional characteristic of the alligator juniper is the one that helped earn the tree’s moniker. The bark of the tree resembles that of an alligator’s skin. This distinct bark contributes to the tree’s resiliency, in particular offering protection from fires. The alligator juniper’s resiliency is also reinforced through its symbiotic relationships with local fauna. The tree provides shelter, shade, habitat and nest sites for many birds and mammals. Birds and mammals are also attracted to and eat the juniper’s berries. In return, alligator juniper seed disbursement is propagation by those birds’ and mammals’ digestive processes. On the human side of resiliency, this representative has close ties to my heart and my DNA. My mother was seventy-three years old when she was struck and run over by a truck while in a crosswalk, crossing a street. My mom at the time, was 5’3 and maybe 110 pounds – soaking wet with several winter layers of clothes, boots, jacket, scarf, and mittens. She was small in stature, yet mighty in resiliency. ‘Though she be but little she is fierce.’ – William Shakespeare She was unresponsive when emergency medical workers arrived on scene, beckoned by heroic eyewitnesses who had immediately called 911. The medics rushed her to the nearest hospital where nurses and medical personnel urgently assessed her condition and state of needs. My oldest sister, who was my mom’s emergency contact, had called me to let me know of our mom’s situation. Unfortunately, I was unavailable and out of state at the time, enjoying a massage while visiting my old stomping grounds, The Dalles, Oregon, nearly ninety miles away. Needless to say, the positive effects of the massage quickly dissipated with the news of the negative repercussions of my mom’s accident. he hospital staff had placed my mom in a medically induced coma, to help stabilize and protect her body and brain from further deleterious effects from her traumatic accident. She had suffered a severe head injury from being slammed onto the concrete and a degloving injury to her lower leg. By the time all five of her children had arrived at the hospital, she had already been through several surgeries to clean and debride the remaining tissues in her injured leg. The medical team apprised us all on an important decision we would have to make. My mom’s body was fighting hard – too hard, to heal an impossibly healable limb. They could keep performing debridement surgeries or they could amputate. We spoke for our mom and voiced our decision: amputation. My mom’s body, being rid of the weight from her severely injured lower leg and the energy to try to heal it, started improving immediately – just as her medical team predicted. She was taken out of her induced coma and regained consciousness soon after. After awakening and through communication, the extent of my mom’s head trauma became clearer. She had lost almost all her hearing in one ear and partial hearing in the other. In addition to her hearing loss, she suffered both short- and long-term memory loss. She would “loop” her sentences, repeating the same thing several times in a minute. Even though she recognized her family and friends, she couldn’t recall events, occasions, or holidays spent with them a week, a month or years ago. In a flash, my mom turned into the ultimate example of living in the moment. Despite my mom’s traumatic accident and the lifelong dramatic changes it brought, my mom took it all in stride, one step at a time - literally. Her new leg – a prosthetic one, fits her current below-the knee amputation and her previous lifestyle perfectly. Outfitted with trekking poles, given to her by one of my sisters, she had additional support to do the walkabouts she had done religiously prior to her accident. Relatedly, it was her walking routine to church that helped determine the direction of her travel within the crosswalk and the culpability of the driver. My mom’s accident was over ten years ago. Since then, she has survived a fall that broke the femur in her amputated leg, a fall that broke her hip and a flat lining incident that occurred during surgery as a result from her allergic reaction to fentanyl. Just one of those incidents alone would have sidelined anyone else. However, my mom bounced back from each one with a positive perspective, wit, a twinkle in her eye and a smile on her face. I’ve heard many people proclaim a solemn vow to be as unlike their parents as possible – in life philosophies, mannerisms, and looks. They don’t identify with or desire to have any shared traits or beliefs with their parents. I, on the opposite spectrum, do not align with this perspective. I often say to myself, family, friends, clients, and peers, that if I had just one ounce of the resiliency my mom has, I’d do alright in this world. Her body’s innate ability to withstand and recover from physical trauma and her brain’s capacity – albeit a forced gift, to stay in the moment, supports her in processing the world through movement while not becoming lost in the past. My mom’s traits not only inspire me to work on my resiliency skills, but to advocate my clients to do the same, one step at a time. This (title) saying is used to say that it is often easier to show something in a picture than to describe it in a thousand words. In this particular case and this particular picture, not so much. In this picture, I'm posing on the podium, second place finisher in a mountain bike race. It shows me smiling with somewhat muscularly defined legs with a medal around my neck. One would assume that, even with the third podium place empty, there was a certain amount of success felt and achieved. What the picture doesn't show is that several of the women who dominate this category are absent from this race. What the picture also doesn't show is the personal physical and mental struggle I had during this race.
Having moved to the Southwest in May of '22, I had an abrupt awakening to the change of trail conditions and style of mountain bike riding. When I was living in the Pacific Northwest, I was used to lower geared riding that helped me navigate the short, steep, wet, slippery and technical trail. I hardly ever visited my higher gears. Breaking into double digit miles and 1000 foot elevation gain, was a worthy ride day. Slower and steadier, until you turned around to go home, was the mantra. Here in the Southwest, the local riding trails are what I call 'racetracks.' They have more flow, less technical features, and less elevation gain. Getting in double digit miles is a comparatively easier endeavor. However, the mph is usually in the double digits and home is spent in the higher gears. On these trails, vroom is the new mantra. When I first rode with the local riding group, they took off, in my mind, like a shot. I quickly went anaerobic, legs and lungs burning and struggling for breath, trying to keep up. I gasped a silent prayer when the group stopped to regather. It's a reboot of body and brain journey from rocks and roots to flow and go. The second race of the MBAA (Mountain Biking Association of Arizona) series was a vastly different course than the first race. There was more elevation and rocks to navigate around or over. Mother Nature also brought freezing temperatures compared to short sleeve and thirty degree warmer weather in the first race. This combination challenged participants to alter race strategies. Well, for this participant who uses 'race' in air quotes, the only strategy I had was to keep pedaling, rubber side down. My goals were simple: survive and finish. My body is, at times, my greatest ally and at others, my worst enemy. Some days, I feel lean and movement is effortless. On these days, if I'm on my bike, I feel like a superhero. There is no immediate burn in my legs or lungs. I move fluidly on my bike, gaining many bike lengths on my husband, and having to stop frequently to wait until he catches up. On other days, sometimes even during the same day, minutes later, my body becomes hyper inflamed. My body feels bloated and heavy. During these days or periods of time, each pedal stroke is a task. I can become anaerobic in an instant, regardless of elevation, incline, or technical feature. If I don't mindfully control my breathing, slow down or stop to catch my breath, it can escalate into an asthmatic attack. The underlying cause is unknown, despite several visits to a spectrum of health professional specialists. Frustrating at best. Deflating at worst. On 'race' day at the starting line, I already knew my future. My mind felt tired and heavy with a "let's see what happens" attitude instead of a confident and commanding "LETS GO!" It reminded me of years previous, when I was at the start line of the Portland Marathon. When the starting gun went off, I felt like I wanted to go back to bed instead of pounding the pavement for 26.2 miles. Despite my body and mind rebellion, I finished, both the marathon and the mountain bike race. Needless to say at the finish I was exhausted and drained, not at all represented in the picture. However, just like in life, engaging in new and challenging endeavors evokes opportunities of self-reflection and introspection. Just as I encourage my clients to turn statements into questions when seeking positive life changes, I did the same. I constructed questions that emboldened me to seek answers with self-compassion and self-confidence. I'm on a new journey to honor my mind and body that may or may not result in a picture on the podium. Regardless, I'm certain that I'll be a wiser and more fulfilled human...and those are 26 words no picture can ever encapsulate. Tally ho, LET'S GO! January is typically the month full of resolutions; people make broad and bold statements of things they want to accomplish in the new year. Definite and earnest decisions to create healthy behavioral change or write and cross off bucket list items are some examples. Successfully fulfilled resolutions are a perfect representation of what can happen when direction (seeing ‘yes’), devotion (hearing ‘yes’) and determination (acting on ‘yes’) are partnered with the structure of a timeline. However, most New Year’s resolutions are merely good intentions that lack the backbone of the 'three d's.'
In research studies, MRI scans reveal that dozens of stress hormones and neurotransmitters are produced as a reaction to the eyes seeing and the brain responding to the word ‘NO’ flashed for less than one second. These chemicals immediately interrupt the normal functioning of the brain, impairing logic, reason, language processing, and communication. Additionally, key structures that regulate memory, feelings, and emotions are negatively affected, disrupting sleep, appetite and the ability to experience long term happiness and satisfaction. All this has a potentially destructive impact on an individual's mental, emotional and physical well-being. In contrast, when an individual cultivates a ‘yes’ environment, they experience lower physical and emotional stress, build trusting relationships and exist in ‘an optimal range of human functioning.’ Additionally, the human body was designed to move and thrives best when invited to do so. The human spirit was designed to be interchangeably dependent and independent. It soars when invited to freely do so. The human brain was designed to self-regulate and feels safe when invited to do so. Incorporating a ‘yes’ environment includes language, behavior and communication that invites one to ‘do’ rather than ‘don’t’ do. This creates a forward moving and forward-thinking internal environment, yielding innovation, creativity, engagement and overall life satisfaction. Constructing a ‘yes’ environment requires a buy-in on all (mental, emotional and physical) levels and (honest, consistent and realistic) cylinders. Some key considerations are
If you are seeking help in finding direction, devotion and determination in the New Year, I'm here to help. Call. Text. Email. Message. Peace. https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/words-can-change-your-brain/201208/the-most-dangerous-word-in-the-world "To cry was to release all sorts of ugly little pressures and tensions. Like waking out of a long, dark dream to a sun-filled day.” - Anne McCaffrey, Nerilka's Story
Years ago, I was earning extra money working part-time as a massage therapist at a local chiropractic clinic. While this gifted me the expected and tangible rewards of money, it mostly and concretely affirmed my love of bodywork. Even though I have been ‘licensed to rub,’ giving and receiving therapeutic touch for over a quarter of century, the wondrous enigma of the mind and body relationship continues to engage and fascinate me. Over the past years, this relational enigma has shown up for me in clinical spaces much more consistently than in my own private practice. In processing why this might be, the right-now-conclusion that surfaces is one of energy availability. Being creatures who often choose to walk the path of least resistance, mental, emotional and physical habits are constructed as a result. We form particular ways of thinking, feeling and moving and to question these particular ways requires energy. When we are mentally, physically or emotionally stressed, and specifically, traumatized, our energy resources are severely strained. Particular ways of thinking, moving and feeling are further constricted. Just the simple decision to get out of bed can be as taxing as climbing Mt. Everest. Having a resource that supports one to release is a valuable and essential first step in gaining the energy needed to move forward. At the chiropractic clinic, this particular client was my last of the day. I saw her in the lobby perched frozen like a statue on a high bar stool. She was petite in stature, but all her tissues were so stuck and bound down to her bones, as if she was covered in layers of shrink wrap - she looked half her size. When I called her name, she carefully stood and cautiously walked toward me. Every step looked like it took an excessive amount of mental energy and physical effort. Her face was empty of expression but full of hopelessness. In the massage room she shared her health history. She was a young woman in her 20's that had been suffering from chronic pain for years, experiencing migraines since the age of seven. Currently, she was being seen in the clinic for pain caused from a recent motor vehicle accident. She gave a list of symptoms typical of her mva trauma. Based on my past successful experiences working with similar cases, I constructed a plan of care. I was confident I could help her out of her discomfort and into a greater, pain-free way of moving through life. However, with the first touch, my plan dissolved quickly and completely. Every place I worked on her body, even with the lightest of touch, made her cringe. I was running out of ideas, running out of time, and doubting my work and my ability to help her. I didn’t know what else to do, so I did what I hadn’t done before. I positioned myself at the head of the table and softly supported her head in my hands. While my hands were gently suggesting to her neck muscles another, healthier way of being, my brain was sending her silent apologies: “I am so sorry for whatever happened in your life to make you feel this much pain. I am so sorry I don’t know how to help you. I am so sorry.” Almost immediately, her body started the telltale signs of relaxation and impending sleep with hypnic jerks and myoclonus twitches. Soon after, a single tear formed at the corner of her eye and made its way down her cheek unto the sheet covering her shoulder. I was simultaneously shocked and amazed. I continued supporting her until our time together ended. I quietly announced the end of our session and encouraged her to take as much time as she needed. I left the room, washed up and waited for her outside the massage room door. Shortly, the door opened, and a light emerged. My client appeared, smiling, and filling the door frame with a body that radiated its energy beyond its physical perimeters. She stretched her arms overhead, remarking how she could feel her blood flow. As I watched her moving around, rediscovering her aliveness, I thought, 'Ah, this is what hope looks like.' Good morning, Chica. Welcome to your new, sun-filled day. Postscript: I ended up seeing this client one more time before I left the clinic. In the lobby on the day of our session, she greeted me with a posture, energy and expression radically different than the day of our first meeting. When I called her name, this time she smiled, sprung up and bounded across the room towards me like a puppy. A puppy that has just been given an invitation to play and explore their new world. I’ve been a change agent (massage therapist, personal trainer, wellness coach) for over a quarter of a century. Regardless of shape, size, ability, age or gender, I always ask the same three questions of my clients: 1) Where have you been 2) Where are you at and 3) Where do you want to go? The answers to these introspective questions will not only help to construct a destination, but most importantly, load a toolbox with tools that help close the gap between personal strengths and lesser strengths. As a result of these changes, the preconstructed destination can change; in fact, it most often does. What once served as a seemingly distant destination, now does not. It is time to ascertain your current assets.
1) Where have you been? What personal accomplishments, achievements and accolades have you achieved in your life? What personal strengths did you utilize? How did you recognize, address, and lessen your lesser strengths? What did you learn? What are your strengths and lesser strengths? 2) Where are you at? What are the roles or titles you are currently holding in your life? What are the creative things you doing? In what ways are you standing out and being outstanding? What and who are positively impacting, inspiring and/or mentoring you? Who are you and why are you here? 3) Where do you want to go? What and who will leverage your skills, challenge your strengths and at the same time, give you tools to lessen your lesser strengths? What excites and inspires you? On a scale of 1-10 (1 eliciting a yawn and 10 eliciting a heart in the throat response), what constitutes a 7? How does this direction align with your Why? Reflecting on the words that describe you and your why will inform, guide and motivate the knowledge and confidence for success in future challenging endeavors. Asking and answering these questions consistently and honestly, helps to evoke the greatest potential from ourselves. I can help. Tally Ho, lets go! 😊 Humble Inquiry: The Gentle Art of Asking Instead of Telling (Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 2013), Schein, Edgar H. "I looked and looked and this I came to see: what I thought was you and you, was really me and me." Unknown There is a powerful and popular statement in the coaching world that says 'what we resist, persists.' More specifically, if there are certain people in our lives that we find repulsed, angered or irritated by, those people possess traits that we, ourselves, also possess, but have not yet fully acknowledged. I have had clients who expressed guilt of this in their past lives, pointing fingers at and blaming former lovers, bosses, jobs, family members, coworkers and living situations for their lack of providing them what they thought they deserved. They were the Queens/Kings of Injustice and Righteous Indignation. They wore the crown often and oh so proudly, most often for themselves, but sometimes extending their range and wearing it for others as well. However through our coaching sessions, they gained a moments of clarity where they have walked out of the woods, turned around, differentiated the forest from the trees and said, 'Oh, there I am.' This new perspective came with the feeling of what I can best describe as 'The Incredible Lightness of Being.' Light. Free. Hopeful. Self-Assured. Self-Confident. This experience is not the same as the superficial Everything-Is-Going-To-Be-Ok, which is as temporary as drinking a carbonated beverage; you drink, swallow and burp it up two minutes later. Nope. This is the profound and significant analogy of stumbling one's way through a desert, falling to your knees, spent, drained and broken, sobbing your way to dehydration. Then, a voice, quiet yet persistent, whispers, 'Dig.' It gives you space to pause. You start digging. Digging. Digging...until your fingertips feel cool and wet. A reservoir appears, bigger and deeper with each unearthing movement of your body. You drink, feeling with every swallow, rejuvenated, renewed and fulfilled. You find your feet, standing tall with gratitude. You look back where you came from and look forward to where you are going and to that quiet, yet persistent voice you say, Thank You. I hope you find that voice that tells you to 'Dig.' But more penetrating, I hope you find that voice that says 'I'm Ok.' If you need help finding that quiet, yet persistent voice, I'm here for you. |