I’m away on retreat part of this week. I brought too much with me and my planner has a to-do list as long as my arm. But as I sit here in my yurt, fairy lights framing the skylight and candles lit beside me, my only desire is to get quiet and listen. If that’s all I do with my time here, it will be the most precious gift.

I invite you to join me. Even if your days feel full and there’s no time to stop, see if you can quiet your voice (the incessant internal chatter too), turn down the distractions and really listen…to the world around you, to your loved ones, to your heart.

Behind the scenes over here magic is happening. My mind and heart are being blown open on an almost-daily basis. And I’m juggling what it all means for my life: increased self-care, stronger boundaries, new schedules and structures and big learning curves. I’m letting go, finding space and asking for help. I’m also getting clearer on exactly how I want to show up in the world, whether it’s in my life at home with my husband and daughter, in my work with my amazing clients, with my friends or in the private, internal world of my heart and soul.

The one thing that’s not in question is that the calling to show up and serve in bigger ways is fierce. And in order to do that, I need to do the work.

The work of getting enough sleep, of saying No (thank you) more often and Yes (please) when it makes my heart sing, of having more fun, of lighting candles and chanting mantras, of staying grounded and centered and playful, of making time to sit by the ocean’s edge. The work of being fully present for my family, for my clients, for my life. The work of being the most aligned, beautifully-broken-open-and-pieced-back-together, vulnerable and loving human being I can be.

This is the real work for all of us – to be our happiest, most filled up, most lit up selves.

So whether your work is to change diapers, blow raspberries on soft baby bellies and dance around the kitchen banging on pots and pans with your toddler,

Or it involves sitting down at the page, day after day, to tell the story that needs to be told,

Or it means scrubbing toilets and showers and other people’s dirty floors,

Or all of the above,

Show up. Do it to the best of your ability. Make a difference by being who you are.

If you hate your job and dream of moving to Nashville to write country music then show up, every day, and do the work that takes you one step closer to Nashville. Note: This is not easy. Walking steadily towards a dream takes massive amounts of courage, vision and trust.

And if you’re thinking the big picture is foggy and you feel like you have no answers or clarity, then show up in that. Keep asking the questions and washing the dishes and putting one foot in front of the other in the dark.

Sometimes showing up means taking a nap, or staying curled up under the covers when you’re too tired or sad or sick to do anything else. Remember to show up for yourself as much as you show up for others. (That’s a tricky one.)

Do the work that your heart and soul are calling you to. Today, tomorrow and the day after that. Let yourself be filled up and lit up, whatever that looks like for you. Because as Marianne Williamson so beautifully wrote in A Return to Love, “Your playing small does not serve the world.”

P.S. If you’re feeling stuck or unsure of what your particular brand of brilliance is, a Fresh Start is a beautiful and gentle next step to take.

I met Annika Martins briefly at WDS (the World Domination Summit) this summer and was struck by her classical beauty and warm smile. We have several mutual friends and as often happens these days, we became Facebook friends. Whenever her words pop up in my feed, I find myself smiling and nodding, appreciating both her point of view and the way she weaves words together.

Last week I read this post on her blog, about the discomfort that accompanies the growth process, as we become the people we are here to be.

She offered the above words as a prayer and I share them with you for those days when you feel the old stories, habits and patterns weighing you down, trying to keep you scared and small.

I am…
You are…
We are here to rise.

Thank you Annika, for reminding us of this truth.

 

P.S. Please go read her original post and while you’re there, you might want to jump on the mailing list for Sacred, an event Annika is planning for next summer in Southern California that she describes as “one part spiritual conference + one part sacred dance party.” LOVE!

I don’t know how long this cold will last and I know sleep is the biggest gift I can give myself.

I don’t know what today will bring and I trust there will be love, laughter and maybe a miracle or two.

I don’t know what people will say when I die and I believe being a force for love & compassion in the world is why I’m here.

I don’t know why grief is feeling so present again and as uncomfortable as it is, I trust that the timing is perfect.

I don’t know what kind of person my daughter will grow into and walking alongside her is the greatest gift of my life.

I don’t know how to create more space in my days and I know that because I want to, I will.

I don’t know what life will bring and I believe that even through the really hard stuff, the universe is on my side.

I don’t know anything, really, other than what I believe to be true sustains me. That surrendering control, taking inspired action and loving more are my keys to a happy life. That there is good in the world everywhere I look (even if I have to look below the surface). That we are all imperfect and doing the best we can in the moment.

I don’t know keeps me from being a know-it-all. It helps me go back to beginner’s mind and stay open to life’s lessons. It links me back up to I surrender, I receive and I trust. It helps me stay curious instead of shutting down when things aren’t going according to plan.

Letting go of the hunt for answers is both delicious and terrifying.

In theater school we were taught to live in the question. It’s ridiculously hard for us humans to do because we want security and clarity and guidance. As much as I am craving the when and the how and the why right now, standing squarely in I don’t know and remaining securely tethered to my desires is the best I can do.

Let the magic of the future unfold.