The Ultimate Yes

Why am I running?

 

There are now just nineteen days to go before these legs take me on a 13.1 mile journey through the streets of Cinncinnati, Ohio.  I've been training for a half-marathon for the past two and half months and even though I'm a bit nervous about the upcoming event, I'm looking forward to race day.  My personal goal is to run the course in two hours or less which I think is doable, but it'll depend on how I feel that day. I've read about the serious hills I'll encounter around Mile 5 which will more than likely impact my usual eight minute-mile pace, but perhaps I'll make up the time on a few of those lovely downhill slopes.  

During some of my long training runs, I've often asked myself, "Why are you running this race?"  Even with my favorite tunes playing through my iPod into my ears, I can hear the voice inside my head loud and clear.  When you run long enough and travel a distance on foot that any rationally-minded person would just get in a car and drive to, the kind of conversations you have with yourself as you're huffing and puffing along become rather interesting.  There have been plenty of times during those long runs when I've seriously considered my own sanity.  Fortunately, there have been more times when I've experienced what is known as runner's high and over the last few weeks as my training runs have gotten longer (I ran ten and a half miles this past Friday), I've realized how much I enjoy that endorphin-producing, zen-like state of body and mind. 

I'm not running just so I can get high (although I'll admit this is something I look forward to when it occurs around Mile 6 or so). I'm running because it inspires me and makes me feel good about myself.  I'm running because I want to challenge myself physically. I'm running because it reminds me I'm capable of doing whatever it is I set my mind to doing. I'm running because come May 3, I will be amongst thousands of people who, like me, made the choice to run because it matters to them. 

What if all the choices we made in our lives were made from that place of possibility and positive outlook?  What if, despite our fears, doubts and worries, (or using a running metaphor - the blistered feet, chafed body parts and sore muscles) we all lived our lives (ran a race) as though everything about it was good?   What if even during times of hardship and grief and when we're not feeling particularly brilliant (like Mile 10), we still make the choices we do because they make us feel MORE alive than were we not to make them?  Yeah.  That's why I'm running. 

It's time to put on the running gear, apply a few band-aids to that blister, lace up those new shoes, and go live the day.  Whatever choices you're making today, I hope you'll do the same.  

April Travel Adventures ~ Sweet Retreats

  

"I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -- 
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference."
~ Robert Frost

If I didn't already have two adventures of my own to attend to this coming month (running a dance studio and running in preparation for a half-marathon that's now just 32 days away!) I'd be traveling to at least one of these incredible retreats I'm going to tell you about.  While two of these amazing adventures are for women only (sorry guys), I can personally guarantee that all three will be life-changing events.  I know this because I know the three women who are leading these retreats and not only are they fabulous facilitators, but they are beautiful human beings.

Let's start with Jennifer Louden first since I've attended not one, not two, but THREE of her retreats. (Yes, I love this woman!)  She is, without a doubt, one of the most heart-centered and authentic women I've ever met.  Jen's nurturing presence is coupled with a delightful sense of silly and it's the combination of these two qualities that make retreats with her empowering, enlightening, and highly entertaining.  

She is leading two retreats, April 10-12 and April 12-17, at the world-famous Kripalu Center, in Lennox, Massachusetts.  I had the opportunity to spend a week there with Jen last July and it was the kind of sweet experience that lasts long after you leave the retreat. If you want and/or need some creative and comforting time away for a wee while, I encourage you to email her and have a conversation about it.  It doesn't matter that they're two weeks away from now.  Just go!  

Does the thought of a week of sunshine, sand, and surf on a beautiful island sound heavenly about now, especially those of us who live in the Northern Hemisphere?  Lexie Hallahan has the perfect spring-time retreat for you!  I'm lucky that she lives just eight miles away from me and hosts events and retreats along the Oregon coast. 

This past summer, I faced my fears, finally got on a surfboard, and learned to dance with the waves. Had it not been for Lexie's calm and reassuring manner, not to mention her years of training and experience, I might not have ever given surfing a try. Unfortunately, I can only imagine what it would be like to surf in warm waters without a wetsuit, but you...you could go to Kauai April 21-27 and find out for yourself!  All I ask is that you write and tell me what it was like. 

Asheville, North Carolina...I've heard it's an amazing place and I hope to go there someday. Until I do, there's a woman who lives there who will keep me good company with her stories of the place and then some.  I bought Patti Digh's book (which I wholeheartedly recommend with two thumbs-up and high fives around) and I know through her writing and our brief email exchanges that spending a weekend with her and the folks she attracts would be a delicious and darn good time.

I'm joining her in Cinncinnati, Ohio May 3rd for that half-marathon I mentioned above.  Unlike me, you won't have to run 13.1 miles to meet this woman, you could just go to her Life is a Verb Retreat April 24-26 and relax and rejuvenate in her sweet company and in yours.

So...what are you waiting for?  Go check out all the yummy links I provided and see for yourself how wonderful these retreats are going to be and then do this...ask yourself this question:  "Which one is the one for me?"  Take the one less traveled by you.  I promise you, it will make all the difference.

Even Here We Are

I was incredibly sad last week.  The news of Natasha Richardson's tragic accident and subsequent death reminded me how quickly life, as we know it, can be over. She was on vacation taking a ski lesson, fell and hit her head, and two days later she was removed from life support.   I had seen a few of her movies and knew she was married to Liam Neeson, but hadn't given any thought to this woman until suddenly she showed up on my computer screen.  I've been wondering why her death has affected me as much as it has. Perhaps it's because she died so young.  Perhaps it's because she leaves behind two young sons and a husband who adored her. Perhaps it's because it just doesn't seem fair that someone can be here one minute and gone the next.  Yeah, that's it.

Last Friday, I attended the memorial of a wonderful woman who owns a vibrant and playful art gallery in the town I live.  I knew she'd been ill for a few months, but her death came as a complete surprise to me. I had thought about sending her flowers and a card numerous times, but I just never got around to it.  I just never got around to it?!?  WHAT THE F*#&%?   Why didn't I let her know I was thinking about her?  Why didn't I take the time and make it important enough to tell her how happy I was to have met her when I first moved to Cannon Beach?  Death and life...they wait for no one. Yeah, that's it.   

So I've been wondering for the past few days...how am I to live?  Really, truly, deeply...looking at all that is my life and seeing what is important and what is not. Every day it becomes a bit more clear. Last week during one of our classes at the studio, I played a Shawn Colvin song I absolutely love and it inspired me to write this...a simple poem about dance, about life. Despite everything, even here we are. Yeah, that's it.

Even here we are...

Despite what we've been told
And what we've learned
And yes, even what we've experienced

We take all of it into the dance

Our mother's voice
Our teachers' lessons
Our lives lived thus far

Even here we are...

Despite time ticking
And to-do lists lengthening
And yes, even worrying still

We take all of it into the dance

Our joys and sorrow
Our hopes and fears
Our dreams big and small

Even here we are...

Despite what others do
And what happens in the world
And yes, even those things we can't control

We take all of it into the dance

Our pause and ponder
Our heartbeat and heartache
Our bodies and our beliefs

Even here we are

Despite everything else
And no matter what
And yes, even just because

We take all of it
All of it
Into the dance

 

Life is Short ~ Do those things that scare you

 

This past weekend I participated in the event shown in the photo above.  Fright Night was created by my friend and fellow movement artist, Paula Byrne, to give people an opportunity to face what they fear in a playful and supportive way.  This was no ordinary open mic.  This event was not for those folks who have honed their craft and feel completely confident when stepping onto the stage to perform it.  It was especially designed for us scaredy-cats to showcase something we've wanted to do, but have been reluctant (chicken) to try it out.  And so...after pondering for a day or two whether or not I was ready to face a fear of mine, I said "Yes!" to being brave and told Paula I'd be there. 

I am not a shy person.  I consider myself to be an outgoing optimist who's willing to pretty much try anything at least once. I can sing karoke without drinking beforehand. I can dance on a beach naked. Public speaking does not leave me with butterflies in my stomach and feeling weak in the knees. I've led workshops and retreats and have given keynote addresses. And so what might I have to fear when standing on a stage and facing an audience when I've done it innumerable times? 

Plenty. 

When you do something you've wanted to do for the very first time, no matter how confident a person you are, it's damn frightening.  But here's what I know from being on this planet for awhile and confronting a few of the things that scare me...the REAL scenario is never as scary as the one you IMAGINE it to be inside your head.  I believe what makes us most afraid is often the very thing we need to experience in order to learn important lessons, grow as a human being, and live the life we're meant to live. Once again, I was reminded this past Saturday night that what lies just beyond our fear is freedom...freedom to do the things you want to do and be who you want to be.  

So...with my heart thumping hard and my gut flip-flopping about, I stepped up to the microphone to introduce myself and then sat down in a chair with my fear. I closed my eyes, took a few deep breaths and then my mouth opened and out came the words.  The words were my own that I had memorized.  Only once as I recited my poem did I worry what the next line was.  While some might have thought I paused a little longer for dramatic effect, it was then when I was facing my fear the most ~ forgetting a line and not knowing what came next.  What came next was the freedom I mentioned above.  No longer was reciting a poem from memory something I feared. 

The applause and accolades I received from the audience moved me to tears and made my body dance, but it was the shift I made inside of me that was most profound.  Bring on the fear (and the freedom) I say!   What are you waiting for?  Do something today that scares you. 

Sacred Life Sunday ~ It's Because...

 

It's Because...

As long as I can remember it's been something I've loved.
Even when I was unsure of my body
and felt awkward and stupid
and worried about boys
and whether they would like me enough
or think I'm pretty enough
I never have to wait for someone to ask me.

It's Because...

I can go back in time and relive any memory I want to;
that first kiss, the view from the Eiffel Tower,
watching my uncle take his last breath.
My mind is the keeper of stories,
my body the vessel in which they're retold.
In an instant, I can be there again
and it's as though time has stopped and I never left.

It's Because...

I can be with the ones I've loved and lost
and have these amazing conversations.
Death does not prevent them from hearing what I have to say.
When I speak from a place where no words are needed,
we can understand one another.
Their presence is undeniably real when I'm fully present.

It's Because...

A myriad of affairs can be had
and no one gets caught or hurt
or says outloud, "What have I done?"
I can abandon all responsibility and reasonable sense
Wholeheartedly fling myself into
the welcoming arms of lust and desire
Touch the very flame that would condemn
and consume me otherwise.

It's Because...

I can look at my deepest fears,
false beliefs and disturbing thoughts
and see them for what they really are...
truth disguised as mindless chatter.
I've learned to listen to that which makes me most afraid
because more often than not
the voice is wherever Spirit is calling me forth in my life.
That voice never lies.

It's Because...

I can sit or spin or sway with God
and never fall out of step.
There's no right or wrong, condemnation or adoration
just pure and simple love.
Grace and gratitude are regular visitors
and prayers are understood.
Heaven is right here and right now.
Right here. Right now.

It's Because...

I can soar amongst the highest clouds
and travel to places I haven't yet seen.
A place where questions are asked
and answers are given through body, not brain.
I follow the pulse of my blood, the beat of my heart
and the breath of my lungs.
It's movement and music that makes me, me
and sets me free.

It's Because...all of these things and so much more.
It's Because...I dance.

Sacred Life Sunday ~ Amongst the Swirl and the Sway

"I am a dancer.  I believe that we learn by practice.  Whether it means to learn to dance by practicing dancing or to learn to live by practicing living...In each it is the performance of a dedicated precise set of acts, physical or intellectual, from which comes shape of achievement, a sense of one's being, a satisfaction of spirit. One becomes in some area an athlete of God."
~Martha Graham

"It is of course possible to dance a prayer."
~Glade Byron Addams

And it's possible to dance one's greatest joys.  And it's possible to dance one's deepest sorrows.  And it's possible to dance a broken heart.  And it's possible to dance a million fears.  And it's possible to dance a former lover.  And it's possible to dance a future dream.  And it's possible to dance whatever your soul and spirit needs today.

Amongst the swirl and sway of my body...something takes shape, something beyond my form.   A sense of something much more than I could ever possibly put into words.  And so I dance my prayers instead of speaking them and I know they are always heard.

Flying Pigs? What the &#(%?

 

I just hit the send button that officially makes me a participant in the Flying Pig Marathon in Cincinnati.  Despite the shrill voice in my head that's screaming, "What in the world have you just done?", I have the biggest grin on my face and I owe it all to Patti Digh.  I don't know Patti personally nor have I ever had any correspondance with her, but I've been reading her 37 days blog for quite awhile now and a couple months ago I picked up her delightful book, "Life is a Verb" in my local bookstore.  

She has inspired me in a variety of ways, but c'mon, who in their right mind registers to run 13.1 miles on behalf of a stranger's invitation?  Apparently I do and I'm pleased to say I'm not the only one who's said "Yes!" to joining Patti's team of "37 Days" runners. Several others are traveling to the mid-west to huff and puff their way through the half-marathon on Sunday, May 3.  While Patti is running this event in honor of her upcoming 50th birthday later this year, I'm running it in celebration of turning 40 recently. 

I've done plenty of spontaneous things before, but this one comes with a major caveat; three months of some serious stamina and strength training.  I've been a runner for most of my life, but it's been quite awhile since I've gone past the three-mile mark and there's a BIG difference between three miles and thirteen!  I've run a half-marathon once before and it didn't kill me so I know I can do this.  However, that was nine years ago and right now (as I sit contemplating the wild-n-crazy decision I just made) it feels like there's a BIG difference between 31 years of age and 40.  While I'm acutely aware that my body is older and it's likely that training for this run will be a bit more challenging than it was a decade ago, I'm still smiling.  

It's time to stop thinking and take this body of mine (along with that voice in my head) out for a run. It'll be May 3rd before I know it and this is one 40 year-old who's going to cross that finish line with a grin on her face not a grimace.

p.s. A big shout-out to Rick Hamrick for introducing me to Patti's blog through his writings. In this case, when I say, "It's all your fault", it's a very good thing indeed.

Sacred Life Sunday ~ Listening to the small, still voice within

 

That small, still voice within speaks of truth and love.  It speaks gently and with compassion.  It is a constant and mysterious companion who knows me like no one else. It is more powerful than any other voice that tempts me to listen to what's not real. Every day we choose which voices to listen to.  

Today that small, still voice spoke loud and clear during dance.  It asked me this question, "Who is doing the listening?"

Oh yeah...it's me. How easily I forget.

I've Stayed Away Because...

  

I've stayed away because I've been afraid of my own thoughts for the past three weeks.  Because I didn't want to dwell on the not-so-happy aspects of what's transpired in my husband's and my world. Because deep-down inside me, beyond that place of having patience or trust or even faith...I'm scared and I haven't wanted to admit it. 

There is the long-winded version of this story that I've told to many family members and friends and then there's the one I'm ready to share here. On Christmas Day, a chest x-ray and CAT scan showed three nodules on James' right lung.  After three weeks of a multitude of tests, procedures and possible diagnoses, James' health remains a mystery. The good news is all of the nasty things the doctors thought he might have he doesn't have.  The other good news is many of the symptoms he's been experiencing are going away. I'm grateful for both of these things and it's challenging not yet knowing what's been going on with James' body. And so for now and for the next 4-6 weeks until his next CAT scan, we wait.

There's a part of me that's been strong and supportive to James...I've researched medical terms and have asked plenty of questions of the doctors.  I haven't shown my fear of the unknown, but have remained steadfast in showing love and showering him with positive, healing energy.  I've let go of my anger towards the doctors who had to follow "the rules" which kept us for three days over Christmas at the hospital. I've let go of my rage and disbelief at the physician who accidentally punctured James' lung while he was retrieving tissue samples.  I've let go of my sadness having missed spending the holiday with my family.  I've even let go of trying to figure out what all of this possibly means.  But what continues to lurk in the corners, and keeps me up late at night, and makes me want to scream is my fear.  

When I don't know something, I want to find an answer.  Would knowing an answer in this case alleviate my fear or would it make it greater than it ever has been?  I sit here at 2:30 in the morning staring at the blinking cursor.  How ironic to want an answer to provide comfort and peace and yet not having one also creates those feelings. 

No matter what happens, the love of my life and I will be okay.  I know this.

Sacred Life Sunday ~ Returning to the Light

 

And darkness shall give way to light...Sweet Solstice it is today.  After the longest night of the year, returning to the light we shall go tomorrow. YIPPEE!  It's been a day of reflection (thinking about this past year), contemplation (pondering what's next in the New Year), organization (I'm in major decluttering mode right now) and preparation (my husband's birthday is tomorrow).

It's been a wild week weather-wise in the Pacific Northwest and even the Oregon coast wasn't spared from the so-called Artic Blast.  Making snow angels on the beach was truly a sacred and utterly delightful thing.  The photos and the memories still make me smile and bring me to a lovely place of quiet and stillness.  Happy Solstice to you!

 

Ho Ho Ho Haystack Rock!

 

Ha Ha Happy Snow Girl! 

 

Beautiful and BRRR...it's cold Beach.

   

Got skis?  

 

Yes it is!