Buy the ticket, take the ride

“Don’t stop running!”

After signing my life away upon payment, those three words were the only instructions I received from my Brazilian guide—my co-pilot for the next 30 minutes.

We stood 20' from the edge of a cliff, nearly 1700' above sea level just south of Ipanema beach. The view couldn't have been more stunning. The drive up the mountain to the launch point couldn't have been more harrowing. And, it was my last day in Rio de Janeiro and I was ready, no matter what happened. This was soon after my mother left this mortal plane, and life felt precarious anyway. 

We belted ourselves into harnesses, then to the glider, and after safety checks, we were ready. Among my friends, I was the first. My brain hit auto-repeat: Don't stop running. (And breathe!)

When the friends we were visiting first suggested this, I wanted to say no. Which meant I had to say yes. Years prior, I made a personal policy that saying no to something required further evaluation--because chances were my no was due to fear or uncertainty... which I deemed inadequate reasons to say no. 

As Hunter S. Thompson said, "Buy the ticket. Take the ride." Saying "yes" often enough, especially when we want to say no, builds our resilience. 

So don't stop. 

That's our option right now. While this hot ticket was foisted upon us--the cluster that is a pandemic, a recession, and political theatre--it's up to us how we get through it. We can dig in, resist, and refuse to accept what is, or we can say yes and adapt, adopt, and change. I know that's not easy for everyone, as many are experiencing true hardship right now. However, with the resilience we've built, we can also help others. 

That flight over the white sandy beach and azure South Atlantic was extraordinary. We caught some thermals and glided for 30 minutes or so before gently landing on the beach. 

I know that not every landing is soft, but I do know they get easier with practice. 

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

Ready, set... reset

I took this photo when I stayed here 6 years ago, 
and my 'seagull series' remains a favorite. 
This may have even been from the 
same balcony. 

A storm came up on my Thursday drive to Cannon Beach, Oregon from Seattle, with unrelenting high wind and pelting rain until Saturday morning. I hunkered down in my hotel room—a good thing since I paid extra for that ocean-front view this time.  

I'm deeply in need of a reset: body, mind, spirit... from diet to finances to... well, right now it feels like everything. This place is magic for me: open ocean, crashing waves, lengthy beaches, monolithic sea stacks, a delightful town center, fantastic local food, and, were I to venture farther, more charming pocket towns to explore along the coast just a short drive away.  

Revisiting self-care

How I reset can take different forms, depending on my current experience: stream-of-consciousness writing, journaling, reading, walking, meditating, a change in diet, or as of this moment, staring at and listening to the ocean, sitting next to the fire. Sometimes just a change in scenery has a powerful impact.  

I came here loaded with books, a journal and notepads, my laptop, tea, a swimsuit and running shoes, my camera, and nourishing things—because I don't yet know what "reset" requires.  

I use Insight Timer nearly every morning to help me meditate, a practice I aim for but can't say I'm good at, but sets the tone for my day. Lately, I'm not very focused, so I need that "me time." 

Waking up

A friend pinged me with some urgency before I left to suggest I listen to Sam Harris, both his podcast Making Sense and his Waking Up meditation course during this reset. His timing was perfect.  

On the drive, I listened to Sam's podcast with Roland Griffiths, Ph.D., a Johns Hopkins University professor of psychiatry and neuroscience. He's doing extraordinary work with psychedelics. Researchers today are building on work that started in the 1940s but got sidelined in the '60s; sadly, recreational psychedelic use freaked out the powerful who then killed the research. Thankfully, research now shows intriguing results for those who suffer from otherwise hard-to-treat conditions, like PTSD. Michael Pollan ("eat food, mostly plants, not too much") speaks to this in How to Change Your Mind.  

I also started Sam's Waking Up course to help unwind, regroup, and regenerate. 

Year-end intention

That's my intention for the next two weeks: regroup, reset, regenerate. 

This year-end reset ritual is a regular practice, although how I do it differs each year. My birthday (Dec. 19) and winter solstice—the shortest day and longest night of the year—marks the beginning of my self-reflection—my own new year. For many cultures, this is a solstice tradition; both solstice celebrations and Christmas are grounded in pagan rituals. (Here's an inspiring travel article.)

My prompts for thinking and writing: 

• What do I want my life to look like, particularly the year ahead?
• Are there themes to focus on? 
• Beyond goals, what intentions must be set? 

My birthday dessert, 
Stephanie Inn
chocolate pot-de-creme

Solitude and time alone are requirements, away from distractions and what's familiar.  

I need to breathe, walk, meditate, read, eat well, write, and sleep.... and this weekend, stare at the ocean and listen to the surf.   

Just 'be' 

Sometimes just being is enough. We're always doing, so not doing is essential. Early in Sam's Waking Up course, he quotes Socrates: A life unexamined is not worth living. Or at least, he adds, it may be worth living, but it's not very interesting. Our purpose is to grow and evolve, and we must just be to integrate learning, let go, and recalibrate. 

#soulretreat #selfcareishealthcare #healthcareisselfcare 



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

Managing expectations, dealing with disappointment... and the stories they trigger

I should be on a plane to Singapore on Friday. A relatively short trip - just over a week, but an opportunity to see Forrest after six months apart and explore an intriguing destination together - a place I've read about, heard about, thought about, and wanted to visit for a long time. Ideally, a longer trip would encompass travel to other destinations in the area: various parts of Thailand, Vietnam, Bali, Kuala Lumpur... to name just a few. But I was so looking forward to this trip, regardless. To seeing Forrest, to going somewhere I've never been, to vacation time, to play time, hanging out, laughing... something I'm currently in need of.

I bought my ticket on April 1. I waited until Forrest confirmed the ship he's on would be in port on the scheduled dates with no change in plans. But still it wasn't meant to be - the shipping line decided last minute on a cost saving measure, anchoring in international waters with no 'launch' service - meaning the crew can't go ashore. I cancelled my flight on April 9. I don't think I have words that are any better than his, so you can read his blog post here.

This was quite a letdown - one of many since his flight left Seattle October 17, albeit the biggest. Our communication options have been terrible - before he signed on, we thought "modern shipping line - no problem." We expected we'd have internet, Skype, email... Instead, we've had horrible satellite phone conversations - bad connections, delays, disconnections... And email is sent and received from the ship once a day to his crew email address. When he's in port, he has SIM cards that allow him to make and receive calls from his cell phone, and gives him internet access - when they work. We thought we'd be able to meet in a port or two - we planned to meet in Savannah in December before he started his second Atlantic crossing to Gibraltar and points beyond. But the ship's schedule changed.

This last disappointment triggered a lot of old stories and beliefs about my self worth, what I can have, what I deserve, whether my life matters or works, and if I should even be here (I'm really not being dramatic - I grew up with this crap in the recesses of my brain... and there's a bit more to this story: I have guidebook after guidebook of places I've planned to visit and have only managed to get to a minute few over a vast number of years). It feels unfair.

These are all interesting things to notice. The stories don't run me anymore, and they rarely even make an appearance. And when they do, they don't stay very long. Awareness is key. I now know these are stories that were developed from events, experiences, and other people's perspectives - and they aren't true. But they were part of my inner dialogue for so long that at low points, when I'm least prepared, they come back in a flash and nearly blindside me.

What shifts me away and into a better place? After awareness comes acceptance and compassion. Seriously, compassion for myself had to be one of the hardest things I've had to learn, but the choice is really simple. Now that I can see the difference, it's really the only choice.

Because I know the old stories aren't true and I can put perspective around the feelings, I can more quickly see beyond my immediate sadness and disappointment. Practicing compassion helps me move toward self empowerment. Forrest will be home in just over five weeks. One day, I will make travel happen and I will go to the places I've dreamed about for so long because I know how to do things differently now and make different choices (I did actually buy this ticket, didn't I? That's a step closer!). Together, Forrest and I have been laying a foundation to create these opportunities, and this is merely a minor setback. Really.

This too shall pass. And as I have been reminded, all things do seem to happen for a reason and at some point, that reason will likely be apparent. I'll stay open and see what shows up.

Meanwhile, I'm hitting my reset button and giving myself plenty of room. At the beach.


Update 4/12/13: While not particularly relevant, it did make me laugh about 'being triggered.'

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.

Finding wellness in Vancouver

This year marked the 21st year of The Wellness Show in Vancouver, BC. For the third year in a row, I've made the trip north to see a friend who manages the cooking stage, and find out what's new in the world of wellness. It's hard to believe it was 20 years ago I worked on the show's marketing copy, and the changes I've experienced over those two decades.

My wellness journey started in my mid-20s when I came to the realization that lifestyle trumps genetics. I made significant changes that I've built on and refined ever since. From fitness to food, it all matters. We are our own best health plan. Information changes over time with more research and experimentation, though, so gut sense - literal and figurative - plays a part. Events like The Wellness Show help educate a general audience, introduce new products, pathways and techniques to the tried and true, and remind us that there are no shortcuts to health, much as we'd like them. 


The antitheses to healthy eating: Leaving the convention center on Sunday,
I walked by this food truck. I noticed their restaurant on Robson Street
while up for the show last year. Hardly a health food, I couldn't resist
the photo. It's a food trend I just don't understand.
And I hear they're everywhere!

While I didn't attend any of the workshops or seminars, I learned a lot just walking the aisles and talking with vendors. A few of the key things I learned or noticed this year:

• Coconut is everywhere - from crunchy chips to organic milk, to face creams and good-for-you candy bars. It's the latest trend and while I have been a coconut fan for years (I both cook with and use the oil on my skin as a night cream, add flakes to my breakfast cereal, and I adore coconut curries - and dare I say it? As a kid, I loved Almond Joy candy bars and just about anything coconut...), I worry about resource depletion once something finds its way into our obsessive culture.
• "Raw" chocolate bars are chalky and bitter and not yet worth the cost.
• Nordic Naturals fish oil is an easy access product that I can feel good about buying. However, a wallet-sized card I picked up lets me know which fish are the most contaminated and over-fished. It leaves just a small list of what I can feel good about eating.
• Nature's Path rocks my world. I love their products. They sponsor the show and promise not to sell out to a major corporation like so many other good brands.
• Natural cosmetics are improving. Except mascara (for me). And if you're in the northwest and local is your thing, Lavera and Benecos are based in Kirkland. And for those who have more luck than I do with products, Lavera mascara is apparently rated the best in the natural cosmetics world. 
• Coffee with mushrooms tastes fine, but I didn't notice a kick. Tea is a burgeoning health trend.
• For the lactose intolerant, naturally aged cheese is your friend. A raw milk cheese vendor explained that cheese aged over time loses its lactose, but most cheese bought in supermarkets is quickly processed. 
• Pets need healthy products, too, and there's no shortage. From wet and dry food to natural supplements, it's available. Grain-free for cats is the way to go (I didn't ask about dogs). 
• I'm not crazy about what's traditionally considered "health food." And I'm never going to be vegan. The vegan cheezcake just didn't do it for me.
• Common Ground magazine is still publishing and this makes me happy. They do a great job of educating their readers about issues of significant importance be they global, national, regional or hyper local.
• Wellness is a body, mind, spirit experience. There is no separation. And there are myriad ways to nurture and satisfy all three.
• Wellness skews female. And most of us want to look young and healthy as long as we can. 

Held at the Vancouver Convention Center on Vancouver's downtown waterfront, even the location says wellness. Across the inlet are the North Shore mountains, what seem like just a hop and a skip away. The Grouse Grind, three ski hills and endless hiking trails await anyone who's fit and ready - no matter the season. And the 1,000 acre Stanley Park is just a few blocks away, with hiking trails throughout and a seawall / cycling / walking path that rings the park.

While I was well on my way to wellness prior to moving to Vancouver, it was during my years there that I notched it up a number of rungs. I fell in love with hiking, sailing, running, and healthy food, and it was living in this clean, coastal city that changed my awareness about environmental practices and living lightly on the planet. Living with a vegetarian (who managed her MS in large part through diet), seeing a naturopath, and starting a regular massage regimen all shifted my perspective about managing my own health.

I wouldn't want to live there again, but it's sure nice to visit. I'm grateful for the friends, the experience, and the greater good that came from it.

Oh - and floating is back! The Float House is opening in April in Vancouver, and a search turned up several float locations in the Vancouver / Seattle / Pacific Northwest region. Long since closed, the Float Zone on Vancouver's 1st Street was a favorite, followed by a tank at Ballard Massage in Seattle, decommissioned years ago. Unless you're claustrophobic, you really must try it sometime - there's nothing like complete sensory deprivation (I'll take mine without music, thanks) for complete relaxation. This may be as close as you'll get to floating on a cloud.