I was lost in a dream the other day. Caught up in an old story about how to live life – my way.
I felt the stress of this dream – occurring in the light of day with eyes wide open. This was my clue that I was dreaming. Stress – a friendly reminder that I had my knickers in a knot over something I thought was a problem. I noticed my tension and took a breath. Enjoying another deep breath, I asked one question:
“Am I present?”
Of course this is a trick question. Each time stress offers the invitation to ask this of myself, the answer is the same: “No, I am not present. I am lost in the story of me and the way life should be.” Yet, the beauty of this undefended awareness is the opening of potential of noticing what is here. What would happen if I took a few minutes to really notice what was happening?
“Noticing” is a simple practice which has the potential to bring you rapidly into contact with what is happening.
It is so simple that this powerful practice is often engaged in a cursory fashion or overlooked altogether. This is especially true in our fast paced, self important culture. Silly really – this wasting of our precious engagement with Life – in order to get one more thing done, to get someplace faster, or to stay lost in our storyline just a wee bit longer.
So, I drop within the moment and notice.
I breathe consciously and tune into my body. The breath moves me in unpredictable patterns if I let it, as if there is a wisdom in the rising and falling code that unlocks tension I did not realize was there. When I notice my body, places of tightness automatically soften as if they were just waiting for my glance in order to relax. My posture shifts. I feel younger, gentler, and more trusting.
It doesn’t matter why my mind is scattered, my body tight, my breathing shallow, or my attention turned inward.
Without a need to know anything, I just allow the breath and inner awareness to move as it will. Everything breathes, softens, and opens. This happens rapidly when I enter the action of noticing with an open mind and heart, willing to be with whatever I encounter without having to create a story about it.
At some point, without effort, my noticing turns to my environment.
The texture of the fabric of my clothing or furniture, the sounds near and far which harmonize with the movement of the light and my breath, the array of colors and objects patiently waiting to be seen. As my awareness broadens, the perceptions integrate into a living story worth exploring.
I realize that my stress has dissipated – my personal story has dissolved.
I recognize the awareness of one pulsating, moving presence. There is a conversation occurring – Life is speaking and Life is listening – and I am that. The wisdom flows unimpeded and is easily translated within this relaxed Presencing experience.
Ah yes. This Presence. So familiar once noticed.
It seems surprising that I had forgotten this way of being – so real and true. And yet, it is understood that dreaming is a habit. Not only mine, but a habit for most. This makes me even more grateful for the question that arises within me, unbidden now, at times when I am lost in the old stories. I welcome the trickster who lives within the question like I welcome an old friend who knows me well and cares for me deeply.
“Am I present?” always leads me down a rabbit hole worth exploring.
Like one of my favorite mythical heroes, Alice in Wonderland, I may remember more than I expected when I venture down the path of this exploration. Simple enough, this practice of noticing. Yet powerful enough to boost my intuition so I can tune in more fully to the Divine conversation.
I was lost in a dream yesterday.
Asking myself the question “Am I present?” This automatically interrupted some nonsensical story and dropped me into breathing and noticing.
And then I woke up.
In my pajamas, in my bed, while it was dark and the birds had yet to sing. I took a breath. I noticed my body, my bed, my room, and beyond within. Grateful for this habit that empowers me even when I sleep.
So dreamy. This sense of wakefulness.
Peace be with you and with all. No exceptions.
Multitasking is touted as the super power which guarantees success. That’s a myth. Rather than helping you accomplish more things faster, it actually interferes with you doing anything well. The benefits of the well known adage “Be here now” are backed up by science. Slowing your pace and placing attention on what is right in front of you has been shown to increase productivity, happiness, and …wait for it … charisma. When you’re fully present, people feel understood and supported. Increasing potential for positive relationships, which are one of the strongest predictors of happiness and success. Bust that myth.
Learn the one essential skill that allows you to face any challenge with confidence, sturdiness, and inner calm.
More than a technique. It’s a game changer.
Three months ago, I unexpectedly entered into a relationship with a horse.
I met Zor during a visit to Liberty Stables in Florida, where I had gone to spend time with a friend’s horses. I had no particular expectations. I have no background with horses, no training, and no experience in equine-assisted therapy. I simply met this magnificent Friesian, and something quietly familiar unfolded between us.
I fell in love.
The women who arrive in my classes, retreats, and therapy sessions are sincerely looking for healing, expansion, clarity, or sometimes just a little room to breathe.
They are thoughtful women, deeply engaged with the people and work they love. Rarely do they arrive because they want another spiritual philosophy. Most are carrying something much more ordinary.
A life that has become full. Beautiful in many ways, but crowded.
About twenty-five years ago, I was driving with a colleague to a local conference. As we approached the hotel entrance, I noticed an open parking spot near the front door.
“There’s a spot,” I said, pointing to the right. He drove past it.
A few seconds later, another one appeared. He drove past that one, too. Then I pointed to a third. “There’s a spot.” Without the slightest hesitation, Dan replied, “I’ll leave that for someone else.” And he calmly parked much farther away. As we walked to the entrance, I asked about that statement.
During the Seeding the Light Gathering, I had the privilege of hosting Pascual and Jose Tomas in our home.
They feel like family as this was their second visit to New Jersey. We’ve also spent a week together in Damanhur and the Temples of Humankind in Italy. I’ve sat in many ceremonies with Pascual in Peru’s Sacred Valley. His flute playing often carried me up mountain trails in the thin air and hot sun.
I planned to work a bit, complete some projects, and enjoy slow days with plenty of relaxation.
All of that certainly occurred, but beneath it all, something else began quietly inviting my attention.
The plane had begun its slow fall toward the earth when a sharp ache pierced my ears. Half-dozing, half-aware, I surfaced into the moment just as the toddler in front of me woke with a scream that broke her open. The sound wasn’t defiance or misbehavior. It was pain.
I felt her small body struggling to make sense of something she couldn’t name.
Her mother bent over her with the tenderness of someone trying very hard to be a good parent. But her soothing came dressed in urgency, in the quiet pressure to behave, to use words, to be okay, to not disturb those seated around her. Her voice shook with the effort of managing her child’s distress and her own rising shame.
