So this week I’ve been at work. (If you don’t know about this you haven’t read my newsletter. Have a look now. Oh, and do sign up if it pleases you.) I think I got out of bed on the wrong side on Monday morning and was absolutely thoroughly miserable by Tuesday night.
I was hating being at work. I was feeling left out (I’m still learning the language), frustrated, stressed and put-upon. I was stewing over not being paid as much as I’d like and the fact that the job isn’t exactly what I applied for (are they ever?). And paranoid – seriously paranoid – convinced every conversation that was being held around me, must be about me. Most of all, I was feeling left out and lonely and sorry for myself. Continue reading
There’s a strange, gentle sadness left in the space when the worry has gone.
The sadness is like a space, the calm after the storm, the peace after a really good cry. It’s like you’ve been carrying something and suddenly you let it go and you’re left with the memory of its weight and your arms are still formed into its shape. Despite the relief, you still hold that space and, for a short while, while you adjust, it is missed.
This is a time of possibility, the chance to choose a new shape, rediscover the freedom of your arms, adjust your body, find a new balance. It’s a wobbly moment: something doesn’t feel right, something that almost seemed normal is no longer there. Even after you have let go of the thing, you need a moment to let go of its memory.
No matter, time is what you have. Continue reading
Stuff (noun): a lifetime of misunderstanding, fear and hurt; causing stuckness, blurred vision and an inability to see other people’s point of view.
So here you are, hearing both sides of a story:
One player is being huffy on a loved one’s behalf that the loved one’s daughter hasn’t visited with the grandchildren as often as she might have; and the other telling you how p***d off she is that this other person thinks it’s any of their goddamn business and why hasn’t her mother bought more presents for the grandchildren if she cares so much…
And so on.
There’s competition in the air, a sense of hurt pride, a need to be in control and not told what to do, and a definite determination to have the last word on the matter, no matter how long that takes.
The amazing thing about aligning your business vision with your world vision and your personal vision is that everything suddenly seems to fall into place. Worlds shift to hand you exactly the insight, support and help you need just when you need it. It’s like you’ve stepped up onto the dusty old pedestal that has been waiting for you all your life, stood up straight and said “Ok here I am at last – give me all you’ve got.”
The next thing that happens is that you realise you’re not alone.
One of the hardest things to keep hold of when you’re aching to share your amazing Self with the world is this:
In order to share yourself, you have to be your Self.
It might seem that I’m stating the obvious, but in the starting out stages – that delicate time when your new ideas are fresh and vulnerable, when you don’t have any experiences under your belt that can be called on as evidence of your greatness – you might start imagining you’re not ready yet.
Which might be the case: finding your Self takes time.
Sometimes when your ideas are still emerging, making big, bold announcements can bring you to a grinding halt as you outgrow your plans almost as soon as the announcements are out of the door.
- You feel like a failure for not following through.
- Or, maybe worse, you keep yourself as small as your starting-out ideas because you feel obliged to make them happen.
Language matters. Changing the words we use can change the emphasis and meaning of what we’re trying to say.
As a conscious life changer, your language should be evolving as you do, as you change and grow your understanding of the world, who you are, and how you fit. The way I see it, you need to spend some time with the words you use, listen to them and hear what they have to say. Use them as you understand them; ditch them if they no longer fit.
So ‘Life Purpose’ is out
Trust is a golden thread of certainty that leads you through your darkest moments. Trust does not need to see the map.
Trust is a bridge, spanning chasms of fear and misunderstanding; connecting hearts with tree-lined avenues of communication and care.
Trust is freedom: release from the need to defend and control, into a world of joyful anticipation.
Pulling you forward on a cloud of contentment, Trust removes the need to know the future, gives you room to feel the now.
Trust is your flight attendant, encouraging you to sit back, relax and let the journey carry you forward. You will be told when your participation is required, and when it is not.
Trust is a golden thread of certainty that carries you forwards, upwards, onwards; brings people together.
Trust, and let your life unfold.
I have a tendency to get my best ideas at 5am. This morning, the thought that dragged me out of bed was this:
Words matter because they are the expression of who you are. When you start to think about the words you use, you start to create a language of your own, one that resonates with you and helps you tell your story.
I’ve lived in Wales for nigh on 15 years, a country whose language the English (that’ll be me) tried very hard to squash out of them, with the result that there is a rather self-conscious effort being made to ensure the language is kept alive today. I didn’t get this at first; I didn’t understand why it mattered so much.
I’m now in the process of moving myself into a German-speaking country and despite my enthusiasm for learning the language, I’m starting to get how entwined in our language we are. Our words are our expression of who we are, they determine who we are able to communicate to, who is likely to hear your message. Continue reading