What restores your soul? Supports your physical and mental health? Fills your cup? Replenishes you? Today I identified the activities enjoyed both alone and with others that make me feel refreshed, happy and satisfied in my life, and organized them in a fun data doodle. Seeing them visualized this way helps me prioritize the big-ticket activities that replenish a large percentage of my physical/mental health so I can carve out time to strategically build them into my calendar. What’s included in your replenishment cycle?
The Reverse Gap Theory.
Someone asked me last week, “Where do you see yourself in five years?”
I couldn’t answer that question.
All of us have visions of our future- what we’ll accomplish in work, our financial security, our ideal bodies, where we’ll live and who we’ll surround ourselves with. I’ve learned it’s dangerous to fixate too much on a concrete future vision. Things change, and often our brains can’t fathom what we’re capable of accomplishing and becoming. Don’t postpone your happiness for your future self. Soak it in now by remembering how far you’ve come.
This pic was taken 5 years ago, right before I left a job I’d worked at for 11 years. It was all I’d known and at the same time, I knew deep-down that it wasn’t my calling. I was terrified and excited and felt compelled to leap and follow my heart. It would’ve been impossible to predict all the serendipitous opportunities and doors that have opened once I let go and finally surrendered.
So instead of feeling anxious about your future “5 Year Plan,” I invite you to try something called “The Reverse Gap” exercise. Take out a piece of paper and grab a pen. Write down everything you’ve accomplished and overcome and created and transformed and how you’ve changed for the better in the past five years. Read your list. Save it and read it over and over again whenever you get too caught up in “Future You” and forget to celebrate how far you’ve come.
Everything you’ve done in the past has brought you to where you are.
You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be right now. Put your hand over your heart and repeat that.
I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be right now.
Change Your Perspective.
Last week I started making art and writing from a different side of my table. Sitting in a new place has generated more creative ideas, in part, because it has literally changed my perspective of the world. I’m now facing my living room, with the sunlight shining on the right side of my body. My monstera and money tree plants and bamboo and orchid and fiddle fig are all thriving and growing in front of me. My vision board for 2022 is visible on the wall to the front right side of my visual field, and I feel, well, refreshed and reinvigorated.
Working from a new angle sparks new neural connections. It’s such a simple, small change that has profoundly impacted my creativity. I write today from this new spot, sipping my coffee and staring outside at a part of the sky that’s been obscured from my view for the past two years.
I invite you to change your scenery, or the angle of where you decide to work/play/create (even if it’s within the confines of your own house). Mix it up a bit! Seeing the world from a new angle and direction may inject your work with a new vigor and energy.
Tiny Adjustments, Big Changes.
Yesterday as I was riding I felt my lower back tighten up. It was the type of pain I remember feeling when I was a newbie getting used to the positioning on the bike. It seared down my left leg with each extension but I ignored it, thinking it was due to my lack of fitness and not putting nearly as many hours on the bike as I used to. As I contemplated the source of my discomfort, a pack of PenVelo cyclists came from behind me as we began the ascent up King’s Mountain Road. One rider came up next to me, greeted me, and kindly commented, “I noticed your hips are rocking a bit. You may want to lower your seat just a smidge- like 0.5 cm. You may find it’s much more comfortable. And you’ll have a lot more power with each pedal stroke.” I thanked him and he rode off.
At the top of the hill, I adjusted my seat down. Just a hair. 0.5 cm.
I got back on and WOW, what a difference. In comfort. In power. In overall speed. It was a cascade effect that changed not only biomechanics, but my mental state as well. I felt like a new person with new legs and no back pain. All because of 0.5 cm.
What other areas in life can we experience massive positive results from tiny adjustments? Investing 5% of every paycheck. Meditating for 5 minutes every morning. Waiting 5 minutes to respond mindfully instead of automatically reacting to a triggering person or text or email. Reading 5 pages of a book each day.
Small things make a big difference.
Unplug.
My power went out around 2am Thursday morning. I woke up around 3:30am and noticed everything was more noticeably dark and eerily quiet. I had no Wi-Fi. The usual gurgling of water in my Aerogarden was silent. I showered with no music and I wrote my morning pages by candlelight. I noticed how I strangely welcomed the quietude. It was a new way to begin the day- in silent reverence to the natural rhythm of the earth. I sipped my coffee and watched the gentle and gradual way my morning started as the sun rose.
I went to the office, and returned home later to a dark and quiet home. It was strange but also, a much-needed and pleasant change to the usual action-packed evenings I sometimes have. I stretched and did yoga by candlelight, rehearsing sequences I’d remembered from earlier classes. Without music or any instructor to follow, it was just me. My breath. My thoughts.
I drew a hot bath with epsom salts and soaked by candlelight, welcoming the silence and the darkness.
Yesterday I realized how much of our lives are driven by electricity and batteries- our computers, lights, Wi-Fi, televisions, phones.
The lights are back on today, but I won’t soon forget how badly my nervous system needed a deliberate pause and break from always being ‘on’ and ‘plugged in.’
Sometimes it’s good to unplug. To disconnect from the world. To sit with the unknown, where newsfeeds and social media are muted. Where you’re not consumed with the past or worrying about the future. Welcome to the generous present moment. You’ll find that this is the magic space where you can connect deeper with yourself and fully recharge physically, mentally, and emotionally.
Beannacht.
“On the day when
The weight deadens
On your shoulders
And you stumble,
May the clay dance
To balance you.
And when your eyes
Freeze behind
The grey window
And the ghost of loss
Gets into you,
May a flock of colours,
Indigo, red, green
And azure blue,
Come to awaken in you
A meadow of delight.
When the canvas frays
In the currach of thought
And a stain of ocean
Blackens beneath you,
May there come across the waters
A path of yellow moonlight
To bring you safely home.
May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
May the clarity of light be yours,
May the fluency of the ocean be yours,
May the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
Wind work these words
Of love around you,
An invisible cloak
To mind your life.
”
I heard this poem read on a Friday evening of the very first writing retreat I attended in Point Reyes in the winter of 2015. The wind was howling outside, rain poured sideways in heavy waves across the open fields, and we sat huddled around a wood-burning stove with our journals and down jackets. I remember in that moment feeling the comfort and warmth in O’Donohue’s words.
This Christmas, my friend gifted me the book Anam Cara by John O’Donohue. As I stretched out on my comfortable ottoman and opened the book, this poem greeted me. It brought me back to that dark and rainy night, sitting in an oversized plush armchair, surrounded by other hungry writers. We listened to these lovely words read by the flickering fire, open to the possibility of a blank page and excited to discover our rich inner worlds that awaited us.
Here’s to 2022.
May the nourishment of the earth be yours. May the clarity of light be yours.
2021 Lessons.
Positive and negative thinking are contagious- carefully select who you spend time with
When you see something good in someone else, speak it
Wholeness is not found in a partner, it’s a state of mind
You are ultimately responsible for your own happiness
Say “yes” with conviction and “no” without guilt
Not everyone deserves access to your energy
It doesn’t get easier, you just get stronger
Do things that support “future you”
Everything is an experiment
Celebrate the small wins
Do less, better
Prioritize rest
Missing You.
Newest work. Alcohol ink on yupo paper, made with Procreate.
“We never lose our loved ones. They accompany us; they don’t disappear from our lives. We are merely in different rooms.”
This year I lost someone I loved very deeply. At times, the grief is overwhelming and all-consuming. Small things remind me of him- the fountain pen he had sent to me after his death that sits on my desk because he believed I’d author a book one day, the loose-leaf Oolong tea I’ll sip that was one of his favorite blends, the distinct Japanese incense he first brought over as a housewarming gift. I sense his presence when I meditate, when I hike in the Redwoods and whenever I am near the ocean.
He was my teacher and friend. He was also an artist and poet, always curious what I was learning and what kind of art I was creating. I made this tonight and it’s my favorite piece I’ve done all year because it captures how profound both life and death are- and how lucky we are when we can love and be loved by someone remarkable. Everyday I think about him and miss him. Grief is proof of how much we’ve loved. It’s love persevering.
I hope he smiles when he sees this from the other room.
Wants and Needs.
SCA Trail, Marin Headlands
Two weeks ago, my dad messaged me- “Don’t get me anything for Christmas. I have no wants or needs. Thanks.”
He’s at a place in life that I hope to arrive at one day. Unlike him, I have wants and needs, but nature satisfies many of them.
Nature is the best gift when I need to clear my head or be alone with my thoughts. When I want to build a deeper connection with someone for hours without sitting at a coffee shop. When I need novelty and want to experience the thrill of discovering and exploring a new trail. When I want to remind myself of my breath and being in this sacred body.
Just as some watch reruns of their favorite shows or movies because knowing the ending eases anxiety, the solace of a familiar, well-loved trail gives me the same stability and ease. If I could send a text to nature I’d say, “You’ve already given me everything- health, connection, exploration and comfort. I have no wants or needs. Thanks.”
Purposely Woven Together: A Spoken Word Poem
I am celebrating another year around the sun. This spoken word poem encapsulates everything I’ve been learning, unlearning, and embracing. It is about perspective, trusting the process, and celebrating the present moment. May you be reminded that your story isn’t over it. And that thing you’ve been thinking about creating?
Make it.
You’re the only one in the world with your perspective, skills, talents, and taste.
May you know that your life and story have been purposely woven together with intention.
A Taste Of Your Own Medicine.
(Photo: Zach McGarvey)
“Don’t give them a taste of their own medicine. They already know what it tastes like. Give them a taste of your own medicine. If they lied, let your medicine be honesty. If they played with your emotions, let your medicine be maturity. Don’t be afraid to be yourself, even if it means removing yourself from lives that you want to be in. You are, no doubt, worthy of being valued for who you are. So be who you are.”