Tag Archives: writing

I Want This For You

When you giftare told you are a gift to the world, and you believe it.

I want this for you.

When your eyes take someone’s breath away, and that doesn’t seem strange to you.

I want this for you.

When you see yourself in the mirror and get knocked sideways, just for a second, that you’re here, on Earth, being magical and miraculous.

I want this for you.

When you can sit with your own pain, or the pain of someone you love, and feel your heart expanding into more feeling rather than shrinking, or numbing, or struggling to fix it.

I want this for you.

When your gifts are something you express gratitude for without judgement or comparison or fear of losing humility.

I want this for you.

When the love you feel for your awesomeness matches the awesomeness I see.

I want this for you.

I want this love for you. 

Inspired by my beautiful friends, family, students and guides, as well as a song by my gorgeous friend, Nicole Thompson, which has the refrain “I want this for you.” 

Advertisements

Walking While the Mind Runs

I should probably leave my phone at home so I can be alone with my thoughts while I walk.  My life and my business are very social; alone time is scarce.  I’ve been counseled to disconnect more often.drift

But my best thoughts come to me on my walks and I must capture them.  They say we are at our best in the spaces between intense thinking and frantic doing.  I suppose the mystics would say we are at our best when we are “being.”  I kind of suck at “being.”

So, I walk.  The phone stays in my hand, and I am often the idiot tripping over cracks in the sidewalk, oblivious to the birds and trees.  Eventually I do look up and breathe, I swear.

I use Instagram to express gratitude for the quiet moments, the flowers and the animals I find.
I text people crazy ideas and send invites to meet for breakfast or lunch (with apologies that I tend to work while the world eats dinner).
I turn little song ideas into voice memos.
I make important business decisions at my favorite pond while snapping pictures of my “pet” egret and turtles in the sun.
I call my husband to tell him I’m thinking of him.
I plan our next vacation.
Sometimes the phone rings and I answer; it’s like taking a walk with a friend (admittedly this means I will take a second walk after we hang up, so the mind can still wander).
I develop my blog posts (I sat down on a piece of driftwood and typed this one into my phone).

It’s free association at its finest; a combination of effortless free time and getting sh*t done.
I know it now: My busy brain needs this chance to run free like the wild horse it is.

Today I imagined sending my students outside when they have writer’s block, and then I wondered if I would have done better in Algebra if they let me walk while I tried to solve for “x.”  What if my friends in corporate offices took to the sidewalks and parks to plan their next marketing campaigns?

beach

What if we acknowledge the importance of the space between planned thinking and doing?  What if we accept that we get so much more accomplished when our minds have room to roam?

I’ll see you outside – please stop me and wave, even if I appear to be lost in thought.