Tap your internal wisdom for life-long change

Some books entertain us, some educate us. Some become life-long resources. The Artist's Way is a resource I've sworn by for longer than I can remember. Is it just for artists? Not at all. I've never considered myself an artist. I do believe we're all creative in our own ways, every one of us, but that's not the same thing.  

Frankly, I didn't read the entire book for years after I first bought it. Instead, I jumped right in to its primary tenet: morning pages. 

In The Artist's Way, morning pages are the first exercise and are the basis for the book. Through morning pages, we honor and give voice to our internal wisdom—that creative and higher self we often call our intuition. 

Morning pages aren't for the faint of heart. They take time, but they don't take thought. At least not to write them. What they do provide is self-reflection, and quite possibly, deep inner work and answers to perplexing questions. 

Find your answers

When you're spinning on an issue or churning over a problem, morning pages help. When you seem to be perpetually stuck and can't move forward, morning pages provide insights. 

The trick to morning pages is to do them. every. morning. Yes, every. morning. 

Why? You can hear directly from author Julia Cameron about what's in it for you in this video. 

So how do you do them? Write three pages, long-hand. That's it. Don't stop. No computer, no tablet, no laptop. With a pen, on 8.5 x 11 inch paper. Stream of consciousness, no thinking necessary. Can't think of anything to write? Write that. Hand cramps? Write that. 

And yes, you can make your coffee first. Then get comfortable. And start writing. 

If you're really struggling with a particular issue, you can write a question at the top of the page and then see what comes up.

No talent or journaling background required

You don't have to be a writer. In fact, creative prose would hinder the process. And it doesn't matter if you've never kept a journal, or tried journaling and found it didn't work for you. This is not that. Journaling is more thoughtful reflection; morning pages tap into your deep inner consciousness. So keep your hand moving until the three-pages are full (except to sip your coffee, but ideally, hold your cup with your other hand). 

When insights show up, I have a couple of tricks so I don't lose them. Keep the first page of your notepad blank. Then when you're writing, underline whatever thought you want to keep, or put an asterisk in the margin. When you've completed the three pages, go to that first empty page, write the date (always put the date on the top of each entry), and either copy the thought or note the date and review it later. 

Keep or discard? 

Do you have to keep these? Definitely not. I'd have file cabinet after file cabinet if I did. I typically don't even read them, except as noted above when I have an insight I want to keep. I sometimes tear off those first pages if they still have meaning for me. But after a period of time, I'll do a little ceremony and shred or burn them. 

Have I done them consistently all these years? No. But when I need to resolve something, or want new insights or creative ideas, I buy a package of notepads, find my favorite pens, and start writing. Every morning, for weeks or months on end. 

An invitation

I invite you to try it and see what happens. I'm just getting started again after a long break. I'm excited to see what shows up. 

If you're already a fan of morning pages, let me know in the comments how you've benefited, or if you try it for the first time, let me know what you think after a few weeks. 

If you like this post, or this blog resonates with you in any way, please feel free to share it, comment below, or send me a message. I'm also available for one-on-one coaching—you can find me here.

There's something to be said for scrappy and street smart

I'm definitely not a Pollyanna. I learned a lot the hard way. But early on, I developed the skills to do that. Given where I could be right now, I'm grateful to be where I actually am.

I'm right where I should be. Are you? 

I find the Pollyanna's of the world hard to be around. The naivete irritates me. Perhaps it's because I once wished I had an easier upbringing. Perhaps it's because I didn't.

I often lament my earlier years, say, from 12 onward. The years prior to that are all pretty blurry and largely remembered thanks to photos. I've said from the outside looking in, they look pretty good but reality isn't always as it seems.

But from 12 on, things got interesting. My history teacher, Mr. Kimball, once told me I wouldn't amount to anything (although he also said something about wasting my intelligence, so I guess he thought I was smart). Because of my loud mouth and feisty spirit (to be kind to myself), he suggested I join the debate team, but I wasn't interested.

My years in junior and high school were tough, during a tough time. Nearing the end of the cold war... Busing... Post-60s freedoms and all the confusions that went with them, especially for women...

Some of my school mates and I were wont to say after graduation, which I managed albeit barely, "We went to Handle-It School - we can handle anything." Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger? Maybe...

Some of those early friends are doing well now. Some of my closest friends really aren't... or weren't, as they departed this mortal coil. But a tough beginning doesn't mean there's no hope or possibility. Sometimes it's a great foundation from which to build upon.

Hope, possibility, opportunity

My former step-daughter had a rough beginning. I worried a lot when she came to live with us. But now, she travels the world for work, is happily married, and often lives abroad. From the outside in, she has a good life.

When I left what I consider to be my first "real" job (as in, the start to a career rather than just a job), my boss wrote in my recommendation that I combined intellect with street smarts. I wasn't sure what to make of that, but I get it now. It took a while.

Me, December, 2014, Golden Gardens Park, Seattle

Being scrappy and street smart makes me a pretty decent human being, with skills to solve problems, contribute to a meaningful discussion, compromise, and get results. I "get" people and know how to maneuver in the world. I'm pragmatic, a realist, even while holding a lot of ideals about how I think things should be.

There's gold in them thar hills... (or, my 

guess is we're all in the right place, right now). 

If we can find the gold in the hands we're dealt, even if we're playing Cards Against Humanity, we can create something special toward a greater, better world.

Creating a fabulous year (when I'd rather be napping)

With a whirlwind of activity in December - year-end work tasks, holiday gatherings, shopping and gift giving, solstice celebrations and my birthday - I'm not always able to do the reflection and planning I hope to in December. But I get started by focusing my thoughts around current year successes and challenges, and hopes for new, different, better in the years ahead. What do I want my day-in, day-out to look like in the future? What do I keep or let go of? What were the lessons learned, and the opportunities to leverage from the year now closing? 

I recently wrote a post for LifeWise Oregon's HealthFeed about creating the life you desire, beyond setting immediate goals (or yikes... resolutions). If you'd like ideas or need tips to create your ideal life, you can find the post here. 

January is my month to coalesce the thinking that began in December into some sort of plan for the year(s) ahead. So while I'd rather be napping (and naps do have a very important role in self-care), I'm fine-tuning my vision and setting short- and long-term goals to get me there.  

Full circle: Sustainable Ballard's 5th annual Edible Garden Tour

We were sitting in the backyard when a woman walked around the corner of the house. "Would you like to be part of Sustainable Ballard's Edible Garden Tour? Your garden is really inspiring."

And so it is we're once again on the Edible Garden Tour - five years after the first, which was our first as a community garden. A few things have changed. The gardeners, for one, although several of them remain our friends. My neighbor, Shiv, is the exception, although he's brought family members along to help.

And all that work we did in 2009? Well, I have news for you. We have some invasive grass that's beyond tenacious. The layers of impermeable paper and plastic, along with the foot or so of bark, were no match for the invasives. And we have no shortage of various types of nightshade, holly, ivy, and brambles - and who knows what else. Oh - and oregano, lilac, ocean spray and maple. Who knew these would spread the way they do???

But that said, it's all coming together again this year. Thanks largely to Ice Jackson, as the bluetooth in my car so designates him (he's my ICE - In Case of Emergency - contact). He's now back from seven months at sea, and the garden is grateful. As I am. I think both the garden and I have felt parched, and his return is like quenching a long-held thirst.

I like gardening. There's something very satisfying about pulling weeds and watching seeds grow into edible plants. But because this yard is so huge, and there are so many weeds, it's just too much on my own. He is so much more able than I am - so much stronger, and allergy-free. That combination makes the work go much faster, and the visual sense of accomplishment that much more rewarding. And while so much work is required to keep it up, this garden continues to be a very special place.

The garden tour is Saturday, June 29 (here's the event website with details). If you're reading this and in the 'hood that day, come on by. I suspect it'll be a bit of a party.

May 2013: Getting started

May 2009: Getting started

June 2009: Edible Garden Tour day

Celebrating older women

I heard a story on our local NPR station recently that piqued my curiosity enough to explore further. New York photographer Ari Cohen has made it his mission to photograph style mavens over 60 on the streets of New York. Despite their advancing age (many are in their 80s and 90s), they're still very much embracing and celebrating life and themselves, and living out loud with what they wear.

Check it out here.

As a young girl, I was surrounded by interesting older women. Friends of my grandmother - Mary Swift and Mary McKagen (grandmother of Duff) - were stylish, creative, talented, outspoken, and both very prominent figures in my life at different times. A pale yellow skirt made from fine wool with exquisite detailing by Mrs. Swift was my introduction to couture at a very young age. Ms. McKagen's sense of humor stayed with her 'til her final days and my visits with her are unforgettable.

There was Hazel Schultz, a friend of my father who kept his memory alive for me. She was a hat model in the 1920s. The afternoon we spent in her attic opening hat box after hat box was my version of heaven at that moment. Already a hat collector, she sent me home with a couple dozen ranging from 1940s military style, 1950s pillboxes to 1960s mod and so many more. The stories behind those hats! If only I'd written them down...

My neighbors Mrs. Bean, Dorothy, Old Mrs. Wurm and the spinster Miss G (whose German last name was hard to pronounce) each had their own special style and made their contributions to the world and my life. I'm also lucky enough to have hats from each of them except Miss G, who insisted on wearing scarves to cover her thinning hair (one of those many things we potentially have to look forward to...).

My great aunt Vernis was my own Auntie Mame. Her laughter and zest for life were contagious, and she always maintained a positive outlook. When her second husband died after a long illness, she reconnected with her first husband who was still wildly in love with her. They remarried, and spent much of their final years together boating in the San Juan Islands. She drove a Cadillac, wore bright colors, always had her hair done, and never left the house without makeup. With no children of her own, she indulged me in meaningful ways. It was from her that I developed my love for vintage clothes, hats, gloves and handbags, playing dress-up with her lovely castoffs. She was a rare gift - so different than the others in my family.

These are just a few who have inspired me and who I could aspire to be like as I age.

I love it when stereotypes are smashed and cultural myths about aging defied. This becomes more important to me as I age and contemplate what aging means to me. One day I will be considered 'old' by societal standards. What does that look like? I certainly don't want to feel old. And I don't want my style to be dictated by my age - how I dress, the length of my skirt or how I wear my hair. And I really don't want collective expectations to hinder my ability to live as loudly and fully as possible.

What concepts about aging do you want to break?

By the way, I'm excited to note there's an Advanced Style documentary film in the works to be released sometime this year. I don't know any more details but if I hear of any, I'll post them here.

Sedona: A visit to Inspirational Drive

People flock to Sedona for inspiration, healing, connection, and so much more. Sedona is indeed inspiring, but I only learned after returning to Seattle that the house where I stayed was on Inspirational Drive. How appropriate is that?

Being home and back at work after only a few days there feels a little surreal. It's a bit like transporting myself out of this realm and into another. Everything you've ever heard about Sedona and its beauty or other-worldliness is true. And my perspective feels forever slightly shifted.

Just do it...

My intent was solely to visit and catch up with a friend of 20+ years who moved to Sedona from Vancouver, BC about five years ago. We met at work shortly after we'd both relocated from the US, newly married, and our status immediately connected us. While we've stayed in touch via phone, Facebook, email and text, our last in-person visit was three or so years ago when she moved her personal possessions from the chilly damp air of Vancouver to the radiant dry heat of Sedona.

She came through Seattle with a U-Haul filled with the contents of her storage space, not quite certain of her decision to move. I get that; it was hard for me to come back to Seattle, despite having grown up here. Sedona's small and the landscape entirely different, and it's a plane ride instead of a short drive away from everything familiar. But her family - daughter, mother, brother and sister had all moved here, in that order, and she wanted to be close to them.

I have missed our personal connection, so a visit has been on my radar for a while now. But it was never the right time. So early this year, I determined it was now or never and to just. set. a. date. Time and resources finally aligned, or maybe it was meant to be.

The nature of things

They say everything for a reason, yes? This is even more pronounced in Sedona, so apparently it was no accident that I landed here now. I am transitioning into my role as coach, claiming my life journey as valuable, stepping into my natural gifts, and open to so much more. And more is what I got. Here's a sampling of who I met, where I went, what I saw and what I learned about:

• Lightworkers, healers and shamans (oh my)
• Art, nature and unrivaled beauty
• Organic, vegan, green and raw
• Sacred space, mystery and majesty
• Chakras and the divine feminine
• Natural spring and kangen water
• Ascendant masters, spirit guides, and visiting Pleiades
• Higher vibrations, energy and sunshine 
• Yoga, rebounding and hiking
• Smudging, altars, gemstones and crystals
• Stars - a brilliant, beautiful star-filled sky
• Wonder, awe, and ... peace 

Sedona is physically, culturally and spiritually rich. While it's a relatively young city (1902), its rock / sand formations have been millions of years in the making and it's renowned the world over (perhaps universes and/ or galaxies, too?) for its vortexes and the profound energy found there as a result. UFO sightings are common. Some call it a "spiritual Disneyland." And some of the Native American cultures believe the land is sacred and shouldn't have been built on at all. True or not, Sedona does a decent job of ensuring its design laws honor the landscape in texture, color and feel. And it's not hard to summon images of rugged pioneers seeking their fortunes amidst the iron-laden soils of this wild west outpost.

One thing I was surprised by, however - given Sedona's beauty and their apparent commitment to keeping it that way - was the seemingly limited recycling / compost options. I'm curious and would like to learn more about what they're doing, or not doing - and if not, why not. I would think, given the level of earth and general environmental consciousness there, that options for both would be everywhere. If Seattle can have compost and recycling bins in their shopping malls, well, anything seems possible.

Connection

After a shuttle from Phoenix, I met Lori at the gallery where she works in Tlaquepaque, an art center in the center of the city, arriving in the middle of a new show opening. My favorite piece by the featured artist was called "Lightness of Being." Lightness of being has been an area of focus for me for the last couple years - reclaiming that feeling of lightness I recall from my unencumbered youth (usually noticed when I skipped school on a sunny spring day, but that's another story; I remember the feeling and want it back).

Lori at Thunder Mountain

Earth Wisdom Tours

Of this earth... or not

Hiking at Thunder Mountain followed the next morning, and we scored an Earth Wisdom jeep tour with Lori's brother that afternoon at no charge due to a cancellation. Earth Wisdom holds the only tour permit to access key locations that are otherwise inaccessible except privately with the right vehicle. Our fabulous dinner at Elote Cafe featured a tableside "hello" from its renowned chef.

Sunday coffee came with introductions to wisdom seekers, embodiments of spiritual masters, and shamans. And really good coffee. Shopping with Lori's daughter and granddaughter followed, and the weather turned overcast. We spent the last daylight hours at Cathedral Rock, a spectacular red outcrop, and one of four main vortexes. Back on Inspirational Drive, we watched a video about tapping into your own psychic abilities and Lori prepared a delicious, healthy meal. She later offered a card reading, and I gratefully accepted. She's a gifted reader, and I have new information to work with, and more tools to explore.

A Monday morning visit to Lori's daughter's place gave me insight into new technology that I don't have the words or understanding to explain. But I purchased a Level II pendant that is purported to increase my energy and/or vibrations. I will learn more and share later (I still need to read through this). But it's fascinating work, and I am happy there are people doing what they're doing. Our planet needs this. But it's even bigger than that. And again, I have no words. Yet. I didn't know it then but it's exactly what I wanted.

The shuttle back to Phoenix was as uninspiring as Sedona was inspiring, and it felt like a long journey back. The 'green' juice Lori made me for breakfast, however, suggested it might be time for an overall detox. It's rare that I'm happy to spend more than a couple hours at an airport, but in this case, I didn't mind. And it gave me time to reflect.

Grace

I entered this weekend with no expectations, no set plans, and a willingness to just be present and see what showed up. Grace, love and opportunity showed up for me, and I am again counting blessings. Lori and I have an ongoing friendship of give and take, sharing, supporting and helping each other, and this was evident throughout the weekend. I love what my friend is up to, and I think she feels the same about me. Inspirational, indeed.