Hi All, I’m still providing consultation support while on this journey to find the base camps for future retreats! If you need support, guidance, accountability or coaching you can text or call my office at 503.714.5772 or email TheArtofLivingHealth@gmail.com to get on my schedule for a phone or video chat session.
I’ve been working most frequently with health lifestyle management and assisting with the phases of the rites of passage in the dynamic changing world we are all finding ourselves. These are wild times and navigating them is requiring new tools and skills that address the unified mind-body-spirit axis. It doesn’t have to be a solitary endeavor and there is much wealth in our human traditions that can assist with the passage we are collectively undertaking.
The following article addresses how the story we choose to tell can create or destroy fortitude. Please read on if you have interest in this topic and also let me know if you feel called to be a part of my writers retreat slated for next year!✨
A favorite John Lennon quote: “There’s nowhere you can be that isn’t where you’re meant to be.” I hear that statement as truth but still I can resist. What do you believe? Is it possible to be in the wrong place? As you look back over the terrain of your life, the junctures where you made difficult choices, the things that came from left field or from behind and totally spun or hurt you, were they wrong? Having learned what you learned, released what you did, rerouted, do you believe in your gut it was a mistake, a terrible error?
I am not a believer in regrets. This may be a personal defect. Even when I have legitimately been victimized, injured, betrayed, lied to, traumatized, I didn’t choose to let it steal even more from my life-force.
This “defect” if that is what it is, has served me well. Roald Dahl said, “Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.” Because I believe that I am always exactly where I should be to be in alignment with my highest good, because I am willing to make the effort to take longsighted vantage points, I am steeped in the evidence that everything that causes me pain is a “rerouting opportunity.” It might need many years of climbing to new heights to be able to look back and “know” with certainty that the terrible thing that happened was one of my greatest teachers, my most powerful muses, a dark and powerful angel. This is what wisdom has gifted me. But maybe it isn’t wisdom at all. Perhaps it’s “magical thinking,” something the field of psychology deems as pathology. And maybe you don’t believe in magic or in providence, or in climbing.
I’ve “taken to the bed,” as one of my grandmothers used to call it. I’ve been flattened and not able to rise up. That condition was never permanent. Was it not because I refused it to be, or was it not because I don’t believe that’s any way to live my life, or was it not because it just wasn’t yet? That place, in my estimation, is the death bed. Until that time comes, I’ll accept suffering and embrace it only as long as I have to. It won’t wring a second more out of me.
To be an explorer, one who conducts life experiments, a pioneer, to be uniquely creative and rich with the magic of this world and this one life, these require failure, dark valleys, narrow, suffocating passages, terrifying storms where we’re sometimes caught out. We most certainly can use up a whole lifetime just trying to avoid these educators, but some are going to sneak in the back door anyway. Climbing to get a look at the topography has the capacity to both strengthen and enlighten; seeing all the beauty this wide world has to offer, inspires.
“Everything can be taken,” says Viktor Frankl, author of Man’s Search for Meaning, “but one thing: the last of the human freedoms– to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”
It’s going to be hard work either way, why not figure out what it means, why this has happened and why that didn’t go the way you hoped it would? Rewrite. Figure out the next step. Figure out what would be better. Imagine the best that could happen. Scamper up the terrain of your own inner mountain. Use whatever life force and time you have left to get some perspective.
Who knows? It might even save your life.