Is 2021 Your Year to Blossom?

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”

–Anaïs Nin

The first time I remember coming across this quote was in 1996. I was going through a major upheaval in my life and living in a studio apartment in a converted home in the College Hill neighborhood in Wichita, Kansas, sharing a bathroom with two women I didn’t know. A good friend and early mentor, Suzie White, had given me a small book of empowering quotes by women. I still remember when I read this quote. Standing at the dresser that came with the apartment, flipping through the small, spiral-bound book, I froze when I read Nin’s words.

That’s where I am,” I thought.

The risk to remain tight in my bud had become more painful than the risk it took to blossom.

I have loved the quote ever since, and I have applied it to different circumstances over the past quarter century, but the words really hit me again last Saturday. After a bike ride, as is my practice, I randomly selected a quote from the extensive collection I have actively curated since 2001 and got into the shower. The shower, as you may know, is a great place to think, and I love to think and ponder and introspect. The quote where my finger landed was this one. Although I had first encountered it five years prior to starting my first volume of quotes, I never forgot Nin’s words, and had recorded them in that first book.

When my finger landed on this quote, my first thought was, “Cool. Always a good reminder.”

But then I was suddenly tingling with excitement. I knew that I was at another seminal moment in my life where it was time to blossom. And I knew that I could use the concept that quickly unfolded in my brain to help others blossom, too.

I thought about the seasons. Here in Kansas, we are firmly in winter. So far, it hasn’t been too extreme, but it is still considerably colder than I would like for it to be. And grayer. And browner. Try as I might to remain positive, I have a very hard time seeing beauty in the winter. Even snow doesn’t do much for me, I have to admit, because I hate driving in it so much, and I hate the cold so much. Cold Kansas wind feels like an assault on my body, and the heavy gray skies that are so frequent this time of year weigh on my spirits and drag me down into the dumps.

But, as I thought about Nin’s words, I could start to see some value—or at least a purpose—for the winter season that I dread so much. Rest. Incubation. Waiting.

Until it is time to blossom.

Although I have no doubt that I would thrive in a seasonless environment that was warm year round, I can recognize that we have an opportunity to make meaning of the winters of our lives.

There are seasons of life when we need to remain tight in a bud, for a variety of reasons. I think there are also a lot of different types of “flowers” in our lives and periods where we may be ready to blossom in one area but need to remain in a bud in another area.

But there are times when it becomes painful in one aspect or season of life to remain tight in a bud. In fact, the risk—suddenly or gradually—becomes greater than the risk to blossom.

During my shower last Saturday, I pondered Nin’s quote, and I saw clearly how I need to blossom during 2021, and I felt inspired to use my coaching skills and my writing to encourage others to blossom.

I’m excited to launch my special Blossom 2021 Quick Coach Power Sessions. If you feel ready to blossom in 2021, click the button below to sign up to receive a link to schedule your free session. This is a real coaching call—via Zoom or phone—not a sales pitch or consultation. We’ll get right down to business with a powerful coaching conversation designed to help you break free from your bud.

Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

I share free daily content on my JustWind Coaching Facebook business page. Click here and “like” it to be sure you see it. While you’re there, click on the “Polls” tab and let me know what content would be most helpful to you.

If you like this post, please share the link with others you think will enjoy the content I produce. I am working hard to grow my platform to improve my chances at securing a traditional publishing deal for my in-progress book. I would be grateful to you for helping me extend my reach.


Ask Yourself These Powerful Questions to Accelerate Personal and Professional Growth

“I AM: Two of the most powerful words. For what you put after them shapes your reality.” –Unknown

I have seen this quote attributed to a number of people and haven’t been able to verify its origin, but that does not negate the quote’s power for me. In trying to determine the original source, I discovered that Gary Hensel wrote a book with this quote as the title, but I think the quote predates the book.

I am (See how I have used them already? 😊) a lover of words. In them I find inspiration and courage and strength and comfort. I have mentioned many times in this blog how much my collection of quotes means to me. I had loved quotes for years but started “collecting” them in 2001. Our friend Susan, a  fellow logophile,  came to our house in Wichita to meet us for a trip down to the Hotter‘N Hell Hundred bike ride in Wichita Falls, Texas. She noticed a quote I had placed on our bathroom mirror, and when she returned home to the Kansas City area, she sent me the blank book, inscribed with a few quotes, that started my collection. I am now on my sixth volume and cherish the words within those books as sacred guides.

Really, though, this post is about a specific arrangement of words—words formed into questions.

Questioning Owl

I love and use mantras and affirmations every day. Some of these are lifelines I have committed to memory for managing stress and fear and overwhelm. Some of my most powerful experiences around words center around questions, though.

As I have mentioned in previous posts, it is a practice of mine to choose a quote before I begin physical activity (as well as at many other transition points throughout the day). Often my best, most inspirational experiences occur when I choose a question or when I create a question from the quote on which I land.

The ambiguously sourced quote at the beginning of this post is one of those. I can ask myself—you can ask yourself—“What do I put after the words ‘I AM’?”

This is a question worth asking. Whether we follow those words with nouns (“I am a lover of words.”), verbs and adverbs (“I am feeling overwhelmed.”) adjectives (“I am strong.”) or verbs (“I am creating the life I truly want to live.”), we are owning, creating and living what comes after them.

Try this:

Get quiet. Close your eyes. Take a few slow, deep breaths. Now, say to yourself, “I am peaceful and calm.” How does that feel? If you pay attention, I bet you notice a sense of calm come over you.

Now, say to yourself, “I am so stressed.” How does your experience change?

Next, think of something to which you aspire. For example, I am working on my first book, so I can say to myself, “I am a published author.” Or, “I am a writer.” Or, “I am sharing a message the world needs to read.” Any of these instill a sense of determination and strength in me.

We can reframe our identity this way. Years ago, I had a personal training client who tearfully told me, “I don’t want to be a washed-up, overweight, middle-aged woman.” I told her, “Then don’t see yourself that way.” Tell yourself, “I am a runner. I am an athlete. I am crossing that finish line, and it feels great.” (I was training her to run her first 5K.) She embraced this reframe, embodying the new self-image and successfully completed that and future races. Most importantly, she developed self-confidence and self-esteem that improved her quality of life outside the gym and off the road.

So, here’s the question to ask yourself: “What words do I put after ‘I am’?” Take time to ponder this on a bike ride, a run, a walk or even in the shower. This really matters, so be honest. How do you feel about the words you put behind “I am?” If they are not empowering, how can you change them so they are?

Another short question I have been asking myself lately is “What if?” Again, what you put after it is what really makes the difference. I have been asking, “What if I really allow myself to succeed in my business? What if I have the courage to invest the time, energy and money in myself so that I can create the business that lets me live optimally?”

What is it you want to create in your life? Ask yourself, “What if I . . .?”

I think these two questions are universal and can have meaning to all of us. However, some questions may speak more to some of us than others.

Jim Kwik asks, “What is your dominant question?” After being labeled by a teacher at a young age following a head injury, he would tell himself, “I am the boy with the broken brain.” He learned to ask himself how he could change that perception.

Listening to Jim Kwik this morning while making my breakfast, I picked up another gem. “Our struggles become our strengths.” This inspired me to ask myself on my bike ride, “What strength can I create or derive from my struggles?”

Simon Sinek asks, “What’s your ‘why’?”

Daniel Pink asks, “What’s your sentence?”

All of these speak to identity. It matters how we identify because we tend to live out our identity. The more powerfully we choose to answer these questions, the more powerfully we grow and the more powerfully we live.

There are plenty other worthwhile questions to ask ourselves. We just need to notice opportunities to create them and then give ourselves the space to ponder them. (Physical activity is the best way, in my opinion.) Pay attention to words that strike you. Can you turn them into questions that can lead you down a path of growth? I feel a visceral excitement when I encounter words that do this for me. Receptiveness to their power is key. We have to be willing to ask ourselves these questions and then be committed to implementing the answers that inspire us. We’ll talk more about that in my next blog post.

For now, in the comments below, please share your most inspirational questions OR the answers the above questions generated for you. How do they make you feel? Both the current answers and the aspirational answers are important. Let us know how you are impacted by these questions.

Let’s keep the conversation going. Get notified about future blog posts and offerings by entering your email address below and join the JustWind Facebook community.

Processing…
Success! You're on the list.

Sankalpa

When I awoke around 3 a.m. a couple weeks ago and couldn’t go back to sleep, I decided to use Insight Timer for a guided meditation to try to quiet my mind. I chose a yoga nidra meditation for rest & sleep, by Diana Warlick.  In the meditation, Warlick introduced the concept of “sankalpa.” I was intrigued by what she said about it—probably too intrigued, given that I was trying to go back to sleep. While the meditation was relaxing, hearing about sankalpa for the first time was energizing, rather than sleep-inducing. I wanted to know more. So, immediately upon rising, after my alarm sounded at 5 a.m., I looked up the concept of sankalpa and found an excellent article by Kelly McGonigal, in Yoga International.

In my first reading, I learned enough to understand that sankalpa is somewhere between a life purpose and an intention. This reminded me of an idea from Deepak Chopra and Rudy Tanzi’s  Super Brain: Unleashing the Explosive Power of Your Mind to Maximize Health, Happiness, and Spiritual Well-Being—that of an overarching umbrella goal, or theme, that each of us needs in our lives as a guiding aspiration that informs every choice. After reading McGonigal’s article and several other sources, I certainly don’t consider myself an expert, but I feel like I have a better understanding of sankalpa and how it differs from a theme, purpose, mission or goal.

I benefit from having discerned how all these concepts, as well as my deepest values, inform my life. Over the past week, sankalpa has become a meaningful addition to my regular reflections.

I haven’t been able to identify the primary source, but I found Richard Miller quoted in several articles (including McGongial’s) as saying, “A sankalpa isn’t a petition or a prayer. It is a statement of deeply held fact, and a vow that is true in the present moment.”

According to McGonigal, Miller also teaches that sankalpa involves three types of listening: 1) having the courage to hear the message behind our deep desires, 2) welcoming and honestly reflecting on the message and 3) being willing to act in accordance with the message we receive. All these stages of listening are best accomplished from a place of mindfulness, such as can be achieved in meditation. Personally, I also find the bike to be an outstanding place to hear the true callings of my heart and spirit.

As I have learned to do with intentions over the years, it is important to state the sankalpa in the present tense. Just like intentions, when we use the present tense, we operate from a place of abundance and trust that we already have all that we need. This is far more empowering than operating from a place of lack and need.

One of my favorite concepts in the reading I did about sankalpa is Rod Stryker’s teaching that we are all both being and becoming, universal and unique. He explains that there are two parts to our soul or spirit, called atman in the Vedic tradition. Atman means “essence.” The two parts are para atman—“supreme, highest or culmination”—and jiva atman—“individual or personal.” So, the para atman is the part of our spirit that is being—who we already are. It is universal. The jiva atman is who we are becoming—our unique destiny. I love Stryker’s exhortation to “Live as contentedly as possible in between the goal and realizing the goal.”

I think this is a wonderful aspiration—to live contentedly in the knowledge that we already have all that we need to fully live our deepest calling, while we take the actions and put in the work that will allow us to live that calling. It is a very comforting and encouraging idea to me.

So, my reading of the teachings about sankalpa lead me to aspire to a sankalpa that takes into consideration both states—the being and the becoming, the universal and the unique. Because there is an element of becoming, I must remember that my sankalpa will likely be a dynamic, evolving truth.

As I pondered my sankalpa on the bike last weekend, I felt called to this truth: “I am a unique expression of the Divine Mystery, contributing to the creation of a healthier, more compassionate world with every thought, word and action I choose.” I will sit with this in my mindfulness practice and on the bike regularly to discern if and/or when my sankalpa needs to evolve.

I am excited and energized by new ideas that cause me to think. Sankalpa is one of those ideas, and I am grateful for my nocturnal introduction to it. Despite the sleep disruption to which it contributed by igniting my mind, learning about sankalpa is a gift because it is a new instrument to assist my aspiration to live my Highest Good, Greatest Self and Grandest Life.

Sankalpa will be an additional centering tool for me. My core values—compassion, excellence, integrity and fitness—underlie everything I do. Sankalpa helps to remind me where those values initiate—from my para atman, the universal part of me that is being—and to what action those values call me—my jiva atman, the part of me that is becoming, living my unique destiny.

In addition to my core values and theme, my purpose, mission and priorities guide my decisions and my actions. Sankalpa is related to all these, providing a deep, solid foundation, and I am grateful to have the opportunity to employ it to enhance my growth and guide my evolution.


No Regrets

What does it mean to live with no regrets? How would committing to doing so change my decisions daily and over the long term?

As I have reviewed 2018 and thought ahead to 2019 over the past several weeks, I have decided that my theme for 2019 is “No regrets.”

I will turn 50 in June 2019. That number seems both impossible and momentous. It feels like it is time to get serious about the things that truly matter to me—to be clear on what those are and to take concrete steps toward achieving them, with tangible results. So, I will start 2019 thinking about where I want to be when I turn 50 and then use that base as a springboard to keep moving in the direction of no regrets.

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do.”

(often attributed to Mark Twain, but not verified)

My recent review of 2018 revealed too many disappointments—mostly in myself over decisions I have made, inaction, stalled progress or indecision. I want to reach the end of 2019 and look back with satisfaction and a sense of accomplishment and hope for the future.

Toward this end, I have written a “No Regrets Manifesto,” detailing the actions I will take to make 2019 a year of no regrets and one that propels me forward in a life of no regrets.

I have already started asking myself two questions in my journal each night:

  • Do I have any regrets about my choices today?
  • How will I live with no regrets tomorrow?

I will also review my manifesto at least monthly to make sure I am on still on the right track, and I will be willing to adjust if I am not.

My manifesto articulates what living with no regrets will look like this time next year, identifying three priorities. In my daily mindfulness practice, I will hold in my mind and heart the vision of a life of no regrets, with these priorities in the forefront. As I am faced with decisions, big and small, throughout the year, I will ask myself, “Does this serve my three most important priorities? Will it help me to live with no regrets?”

“Things that matter most must never be at the mercy of things that matter least.”

–Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Truly committing to living with no regrets is scary, as important pledges probably should be. For me, it means little room for error. Others may be more forgiving in a plan to live with no regrets (and it might be healthier to be), but I know myself, and I have low tolerance for my own missteps. Of course, that can be counterproductive because it may also cause me to avoid risks that could help me live with no regrets, so it will be a constant effort to make sure I am really choosing the best path. Truly committing to no regrets also means committing to live boldly. It is a fine line between living boldly and minimizing error. I think my biggest errors are likely to be choosing not to take a risk in situations where doing so could help me live with no regrets.

An important factor in living with no regrets is to start living NOW as though I already own those behaviors, characteristics and lifestyles I want to achieve. By living as though I already do those things and live that way, they feel more real, more attainable and less frightening.

“A goal is a place to come from, not a place to get to.”

–Rich Litvin

As I mentioned in my last post, The Comfort Conundrum, when I apply Cantril’s ladder exercise to certain aspects of my life, it is clear that I will have regret if I don’t take action to make changes. Life is short and uncertain, so my approaching 50th birthday shines as a clear indicator that the time is now to steer my life in the direction that leads to a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction.

On the cusp of 2019, I am ready to jump into the new year with power and purpose, as I work with coaching clients to do. It will take daily reflection to stay on the path of no regrets, but I am excited and hopeful and wish those feelings for you.

What will you choose as your theme for 2019? How could committing to living with no regrets make a difference for you?


The Comfort Conundrum

For a long time, I have believed that it was nobler to choose a direction based on moving toward a desired destination than on moving away from a current condition. Recently, as I have thought about this idea, I have recognized what I am calling “the comfort conundrum.”

I have become aware that I sometimes have difficulty taking meaningful action toward a change because my current situation is comfortable. It is not always clear to me if inertia or a deep longing for stability is behind the pull of the comfort of the known. Maybe, it is a little of both. I have a strong fear of being mired in inertia, but I acknowledge that it is possible that inertia plays into the equation. As I get older, I am also aware of a longing for stability with relationships, with career and with habits.

Stability feels honorable. Inertia feels repugnant. Where is the line between them?

When pondering taking a risk to move in a new direction, as I have said in another post, I sometimes find myself thinking, “It would be easier not to . . ..” That is not a good enough reason for me, though.

As Michael Bungay Stanier says,

“You need to get clear on the payoff for changing something as familiar and efficient . . . as an old behavior.”

Or, as Simon Sinek would say, we must be clear on our “why.”

I realize that comfort is a blessing, a gift, something that so many people in the world do not have, in even the most basic ways. I am grateful for my comfort, but I am also troubled by the comfortable state of “good enough” because I am often just comfortable enough that I am not compelled to make a change. My pull to stay put can be a cyclical thing, varying with my current level of comfort or discomfort in a given situation.

This conundrum presents itself as ambivalence—a constant tug-of-war between the comfort of stability and the excitement of possibility.

Shortly before I left on a recent bike ride, I came across a simple method for quantifying happiness. I was reading the book The Upside to Your Dark Side: Why Being Your Whole Self—Not Just Your “Good” Self—Drives Success and Fulfillment, by Todd Kashdan and Robert Biswas-Diener. The book, as a whole, did not resonate with me, but it mentions a 1965 study by Dr. Hadley Cantril, which used a simple image of a ladder to quantify happiness. Dr. Cantril asked study participants to visualize the ladder with numbers from zero to ten on each ascending rung. With the lowest rung being the worst possible life, and the highest being the best possible life, participants rated both where they currently placed themselves on the ladder and where they expected to be in five years. I used my time on that bike ride to consider this ladder exercise for myself. It was revelatory for me to this, and I came to the conclusion that there is a tipping point in the conundrum. It is easier to recognize this, if I look at different aspects of my life, rather than at my life, as a whole. Quantified, the conundrum zone seems to be five to seven. In this zone, I am “comfortable enough.” Stability is appealing here because it is known and safe, and there are things I really like about it. The tipping point, where it becomes too uncomfortable to remain, seems to be four or lower. As Anais Nin said,

“The day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”

Picturing my placement on the ladder in five years was an instructive wake-up call. It would be easy to remain in the zone of the comfortable known, around a six in certain areas of my life. But, when I consider that I would be in exactly the same situation in five years, without having moved the dial on certain things that I really do want to change or goals that I really do want to meet, I realize that I will have regret and disappointment.

Because the conundrum zone is comfortable enough, this recognition came with some sadness and even a little dread, but the fear of regret and disappointment in myself is even more persuasive than the draw of stability.

In certain areas, stability wins. In others, I know that I must dig deep for the courage to move out of the comfortable status quo, in order to avoid being in the same place (or possibly lower, due to regret and disappointment) on the ladder.

I also found it interesting to use this exercise retrospectively. It seems even more difficult than projecting into the future, but, looking back, where was I on the ladder—as a whole and in various aspects of my life—five years ago?

I haven’t solved the challenge of the comfort conundrum, but I have new insight on it, and on the necessity of overcoming it, after doing this exercise.

Although I don’t think this was the application that Dr. Cantril intended, the ladder exercise seems a useful tool for any of us who find ourselves struggling to achieve a goal or make a change that, on the surface, we believe we want. Paired with the idea of the comfort conundrum, we can recognize why we may not be following through on our goal, change or habits and ask ourselves how we would feel about being on the same rung in five years.

I encourage you to try it. You may want to look first at where you currently would be on the ladder, from the perspective of your whole life. Then, where do you expect to be on the ladder in five years? Why? How do you feel about that? Where do you want to be? What would need to change, in order for you to move up to that rung?

Then, if there is a specific change you have been considering—a habit, a relationship, a career move, weight loss, something else—but have not made any real progress, apply the exercise to that change. Where are you on the ladder currently? Do you find yourself in the zone of the comfort conundrum—five to seven? If so, are you okay with still being there in five years? If you are, maybe it is time to let go of that goal and adopt one that is more compelling for you. If not, what needs to happen to put you on track to climb up the ladder to where you want to be?

After my ride and this thought exercise, I had a clearer picture that, although I am comfortable enough in certain areas of my life, the idea of remaining on the same rung in five years is heavy with the dread of disappointment and regret. With this recognition, I realize that I have the responsibility to take the necessary steps to climb to my desired rung on the happiness ladder.

How about you? Are you satisfied with where you expect to find yourself on the ladder in five years?

“You must want change more than you want the status quo.” Marcia Ramsland