We're a little like Ikea furniture

Seen at Shilshole Marina as I walked
and contemplated my future... 

Never thought of yourself as a piece of Ikea furniture? Me either.  

This analogy apparently started on the Earn Your Happy podcast but I didn't hear it so I don't know which episode. I read it on a post in one of the coaching groups I'm part of where many of the participants share what they read or heard that day, which in turn helps the others in the group grow and expand.  

Small steps lead to big results

So much of what we want comes together in small increments. Especially the big stuff—those lofty ideals and the seemingly impossible. 

Those goals and dreams we have and work so hard to achieve are a lot like the tangle of pieces and parts that come in an Ikea box. The picture shows a finished piece of furniture, but seeing all those seemingly disparate parts can feel overwhelming. And putting them together? Nothing ever goes together exactly as it should, at least not the first time. The process can be extremely frustrating. 

Eventually, though, it does come together and everything makes sense. You finally have that thing you pictured. And ideally, there aren't any 'surplus' parts alongside your finished product. 

See it, be it

But it isn't done until it's done, and in life, sometimes it looks a little different than we envisioned. That's OK; it's hard to picture exactly what we want. Unlike Ikea, it has to unfold. In life, too, we often change our picture when we're mid-way through and have new information to work with and our picture gets broader and better, or more refined. It's often with hindsight that we see how all those parts came together to form a whole we couldn't have otherwise imagined. 

What matters is whether you have the right tools, commitment to at least a partial vision, a little direction, and infinite patience. Everything happens in the right time in the right way, which isn't always on our preferred timeline. We must know what we want and hold that vision or feeling, and allow it to unfold while taking the step in front of us.

And more than anything else, not necessarily true when putting an Ikea desk together, it's important to find joy in the process... because life can be very short, and ultimately, as we've all heard so many times, it's the journey, not the destination.  

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.

10 years: On anniversaries, getting started, starting over, and now

Our garden path, today

This month marks 10 years since I first wrote in this space—full of hope, excitement, and commitment to this new journey of writing—and gardening. 

The beginning

Growing Things started as a gardening blog, when we launched a community garden in our yard through Urban Garden Share, an online matching service for gardeners and homeowners (you can read more about that in the 'about' sidebar). But it quickly became personal when, a few months later, my partner and I separated after 13 years together. 

That first year I wrote with fervid commitment—at first it was fun as we transformed the garden space, and then it became a place to share my challenges, my pain, to express, and be witnessed. The name "growing things" took on new meaning, and the garden became a metaphor. 

Backyard

After that, even though the garden thrived, the blog languished as work and life took over. Just over a year after separating, he and I got back together, and began putting the pieces of "us" together in a new, different, and ultimately better way. 

Starting over

With help from an extraordinary therapist, he and I learned to relate to each other differently, to talk with each other and hear each other while noticing and monitoring our own filters. We learned to call each other on our stuff, gently but clearly, and even laugh about it, too. We both learned we got in our own way, and it was the "I" in the relationship who could fix it, not the we. So we focused on ourselves, and became capable of moving forward independently and together—interdependent, as we learned to call it. 

In the years following that first year, I worked hard to find my voice, both here and in real life. To speak up, not withhold or wither, to know my worth, know my value. To understand that life just is, and continue to nurture new ways of thinking and being. I still struggle on occasion with these—with my own self-confidence and the limiting beliefs that linger in the background, threatening to unearth themselves and derail me. 

But overall, I wouldn't trade any of these experiences. I've learned to be comfortable being uncomfortable, to be more brave, and that without challenges and pain, my life would be very different, and far less satisfying. 

Recommitting

Together and separately, we have dreams, goals, and ideas, respect how each other interacts with the world, and know we both act with our best interests in mind—no longer in our own way, or that of each other. 

Early years

Since this online journal came to be, he's traveled the world by ship, I've had a couple different jobs, and thanks to life's constant insistence that we grow and not get complacent, we've had many opportunities to further our inward journeys. 

To say it's occasionally been a slog, well, yes. Yes it has. Nothing seems to move at the pace we'd prefer. We've had countless bumps, hills, roadblocks, potholes, and the occasional crater slow us down. His recent work injury is the latest crater, with a 9 - 18 month healing window and an inability to do much with his right arm due to intense shoulder pain. A few years ago, I was laid off when my employer re-organized and I nosedived into a confidence crisis. A few years earlier, he took a circuitous route to a career change that required more learning and growing. And within those 10 years, our three precious furkids all took turns going over the rainbow bridge and for the first time, we are without cats. 

"In the shade of the old apple tree,
there's a place just for you and for me... "

And here we are, 10 years later. I'm still writing. We're stronger together. The garden continued until two years ago, when we ended the relationship with the current garden partners and made plans to sell the property. That's one of those slow parts—two years later, the city is still backlogged and we haven't moved forward. While my heart will ache when we finally say goodbye—I have often said I'd miss the Gravenstein more than I'd miss the house I live in, the tree and the property require more time, money, and resources than I can give them. It's more complicated than I'll go into here, but the house and garden are on separate lots, and given circumstances, keeping the house makes more sense than keeping the garden. 

While I'd love to kick things into higher gear—his healing, his work goals, the property sale, my developing career and personal goals, travel plans—there's not much I'd change. I know that through pain, we grow, and without it, we wouldn't have joy. 

We have a lot of joy in our lives, and much to be grateful for—good friends both near and far, a warm and (mostly) comfortable home, nourishing food, overall health, our careers (and my job), cars that get us where we're going, and plenty of resources and tools when we need them. We've even hung onto some of those earliest gardeners who became our friends, and I'm so grateful they continue on this journey with us. 

Lush life: first year with Urban Garden Share.  Shiv, 
our neighbor, often sang mantras to the plants, saying it 
helped them grow. Together, we created something amazing.  

This year I recommitted to writing and for the most part, I've penned my thoughts about once a week. Some posts take longer than others, or morph in an unexpected direction, so which day they publish isn't guaranteed. But I have a lot more to say and share, hopefully with insights that help those who join me here. Stay tuned. 

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 out more 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.