New Year (why does it feel old?)

Today I am feeling an impending doom about the future.  I am finding it nearly impossible to energetically see through the fog of my worry, my anxiety, my concern for what's next, how to bridge the gap of here to there (and I don't even know what 'there' is).  There are so many people talking about new starts, new commitments, new years resolutions.  Some are even talking about just being present, not setting any goals, because we always fail at them anyway.  And I think we all know how hard it is to change a habit, create a new one or stop something that we know is not good for us.

Yesterday I held a beautiful, perfectly formed little baby for about two hours while she slept.  I held the purity of her being in my arms and sat with her open, simple being for the most snuggly of times.  And there's a split in me - the one that wants this world to be good for her.  The part that experiences a world for her that opens its arms to whoever she is, accepts her and allows her to find her place, to thrive and contribute in a way that her heart calls to her. And then there's the dread part, the part I'm feeling now of the messed up-ness of this place we call our home.  And the fact that if many of us don't get our act together pretty soon, the world will not be such a nice place to live - our air may not be breathable, the vegetables we eat may be contaminated, the oceans may be dead.  I'm not someone who is active in environmentalism, I don't know loads of facts and figures about the world (but am really very interested in them when I read them and hear them, and they have a huge impact on me).  But I know there's a problem.  I know things are happening that need our insight, our wisdom and our hearts fully engaged when making decisions and taking action. 

And it takes so much to act, to extend ourselves beyond our own fearful, safety oriented agenda.  And I can feel my own right now - wanting to look after myself, wanting to know where I'm going to live, how I'm going to earn money enough to have a place to live even.  And I know this is all important so that I have a platform from which to go into the world boldly with a safe patch to return to where I can do my inner work, be in my family, and then come back to the 'outer world' where there are changes to be made, things to do, ways to be and things to act on. 

Right now my thoughts are centering around things like, "I know there are some feelings that want to be felt here - just be present to the unfolding", "I hate this feeling of dread, uncertainty, worry, powerlessness", "what can I do to get rid of this feeling".  And when I get just a little bit wiser from my breath, I can see that I'm missing the sacred balm of all the human and earthly condition.  I'm forgetting myself, forgetting presence.

I haven't found that presence is the ultimate eraser of my negative experience, but what it does for me is that it enables me to really be in my experience, rather than resist it, prolong it, defend against it.  Presence is the doorway to my unfolding.  Presence is the shard of light coming through the door to the darkened room.  It allows me to remember my breath, to feel my feet, to recall a hint of the unstoppable goodness that's also here in any moment of darkness. 

After writing these last paragraphs, I see that I am, again, writing for my life (sounds a bit dramatic but it really is in service of my life that I write these things), and that writing these things down has power, meaning and mysteriously acts to hold my hand through the happenings of my inner and outer life. 

This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine.

At the heart of the Sacred Rebellion enquiry is the question of how we let our lights shine, how we bring our gifts to the world, how we respond to the call in our hearts to contribute what we love to the world.  How we start to do this, how we continue to do this and how we roll with what the path presents to us when we walk it.

I'm so interested in what it takes for us to truly step in to this vulnerable and alive space where we put ourselves on the line and speak our hearts desire so we might start to create a life we once only dreamed of.

This week I have been thinking about what it's taken for me to start writing, to start saying what it is that I feel called to share with others.  And one of the biggest factors involved in my starting and coming back to it again and again is that I have had a very small, passionate, flickering and alive flame which could have easily (and could still very easily) been blown out.  And I have put this flame in the hands of people who I know will encourage me, nurture my vulnerability and keep me coming back to the vulnerable place even when I want to return to safety and smallness.

I want to say this to you - that when there's something you dream of, the thing that's in the corner of your mind that you'd love to do, an idea that you feel is unrealistic or impossible - please share it with someone you trust.  So they can hold you,  encourage you and to support you in its birth.  Some ideas may never come to fruition - but that's not the point.  We need to keep the sparks coming, creating a culture of welcome for whatever inspiration and creativity wants to come.

And this culture is not created by us alone, it's created by a community of support for the things we hold sacred - and that community is people, kind audiences that are not critical or exacting, but warm and gently welcoming of our contribution.  In the future we may (probably!) face the critics, but at the start of things, the flame needs caring for so as not to be blown out.  It needs to be held in loving and gentle hands for it to gain strength.  Mother lions do not put their cubs into battle as soon as they are born, they are protected, nurtured, fed and cared for until they are strong enough to fend for themselves.  And so it is with our baby ideas, they naturally need the same treatment.

Even if that presence you share an idea with is me - you could message me on this page privately just so you have spoken it once into the world to start with.   That witness could be your pet ? It could be a tree ? The only criteria is that it's a loving presence that you trust will hold your flame gently and lightly with the eyes and ears of encouragement and warmth.

Power comes from timing, not agression.

Hello everyone, I am writing from a wonderfully sunny Cornwall where we've had very rainy and windy weather forecasts and yet the winter sun continues to shine.  And this morning I went to pick Matthew, my boyfriend, up from a golf lesson he was having and caught the end of the wisdom being spoken by his teacher.

When I got there he said the words "Matthew, power comes from timing, not aggression"..... So, Matthew is a rugby player and used to play to a very high standard which means golf is a certain kind of challenge for him, where he has to relax and use the geometry and wisdom of his body rather than his physicality.  And it's taking a while for this to sink in, it's taking a while for him to trust.

And the universe organised itself today so that I got to hear this line being spoken.  For ages now I have been considering the question of timing but had never put it next to 'aggression' in this way.  I have been enquiring in to how we can speak up at the moment when our words can be most effective.  What if we acted when our actions were most likely to produce the outcomes that are intended.  Golf is my spiritual teacher in so many ways.  So this was today's lesson spoken loud and clear to me.

When we get to grips with timing, with knowing when to act, when to speak, how to artfully interrupt the life happening around us with our own input, this can be a huge opening where all sorts of possibilities open up.  This idea calls into question our habitual way of being - maybe we deal with challenges the same way each time they arise, and maybe we end up in the same kind of trouble again and again - and maybe this is purely a matter of timing?

If I am not for myself....

....who will be for me ?

This post is about spending time with ourselves, giving ourselves the attention we crave and getting close in to this person we know so well.   And yet we are in flight from this self, distracting ourselves from simply being for so much of our day.

When was the last time you sat still and encountered yourself ? When did you last sit and appreciate what you are, what you bring, the gift that is you ? 

I have noticed that people who are bringing themselves daringly to their lives are ones who are comfortable with themselves - to the point where they can mess up, they can create and they can put themselves on the line without it mortifying them when it goes wrong.  I have noticed that when we spend some time with ourselves, get intimate with ourselves, we get to be more rebellious, and fuller expressions of the life that we are.  Because taking risks makes sense, we know who we are and that the world around us doesn't have to determine how we feel about ourselves.  That's our job.

The Christmas Field.

I want to invite you to the Christmas field.  It's a field beyond right and wrong doing, a field that doesn't even know what time is or what a turkey tastes like.  It's a field where we're infused with what's important about life, where we can soak up the feeling of relatedness and care that is afforded to us simply because we are human.

This field is beautiful, cared for, welcoming and warm and when we stand in it we can see the light in others and others can see the light in us.  We can see the good intention, the part of each of us that's always trying our best given our circumstances, history and personality.  The grass is soft underfoot and the light gently bathes us as we breathe in the crisp and cooling breeze.  In this field, our bodies open and relax into the space around us and we melt into the air, expanding to a size way wider, deeper and far reaching than the limitations of our bodies.

In this field, forgiveness is obvious and we welcome all the opportunities that come our way to practice how to do this elusive thing.   We look upon the world as an endless stream of possibilities for us to experience the wonder and the freedom of letting ourselves and everyone off the hook for whatever they have done, whatever they are doing, whatever they might be expected to do during this season.  We open ourselves up to a different story about life and we create the space for a new reality, where people do something other than what we expect. 

May this field be transported to every home, every supermarket check out, every train, every intersection or traffic light crossing.  And may this field become our hearts, for this beautiful Christmas time.

This moment is not a stepping stone to somewhere else.

This very moment is it. And so much of the time we're preparing for something, getting ready for some future reality that we're working on so that everything will be as it should be. We skip this moment because there's some future moment that will be our ultimate fulfillment. 

So rarely do we remember that THIS IS IT. There is nothing else, this is what we've been preparing for, our lives have been aimed at this moment, this very spot in history that holds us in its hands.

For me this moment is sitting alone in my cottage, with the TV on in the background, the WWF (world wrestling foundation!) duvet from when my brother was little, resting on my lap and tap tap tapping away on my laptop as I let this moment in. My skin feels gentle as I let it seep in to me and try my best to accept that this ordinariness, this nothingness, this small moment is IT.

Christmas is an invitation to gentleness.

In recent months, I have had someone truly show me the meaning of this line. It invites me into an enquiry that often makes me feel really mad.  Because most of the time I am right.  And I am sure you are too. And I don't want to let go of that. 

I'm noticing that my rightness is small, it's narrow, so fearful, so rigid, sometimes bolshy, insensitive and vicious even. I can't see much from my rightness, other than the small matter of me being better than someone else, having more sophisticated thoughts or views.  I'm certainly not connected, warm or inclusive.  I'm defensive, guarded and stubbornly attached.  And it's so often in the name of feeling safe, secure and is trying to be a poor imitation of the true ground that I'm seeking to feel held by. 

I also see how my rightness is embodied, it's a reaction, a defense that belongs to my body most of the time.  Even if I try and let go by changing my thoughts, it creeps back again later on when I replay the conflict in my mind and I get to feel even more right when I repeat all the ways I am justified in my head.  And so it goes on, and on, and on, and on.

So this is the experiment - it's in the body.  It's in the observing of what it physically feels like to take this righteous stance, to stand a 'ground' that's not a ground at all, it's a brittle opinion that holds us back from loving, that holds us back from acceptance and kindness too.

My adventure is into the radical and scary experiment of letting go and relaxing in the moment of madness, returning to this body, where all the rightness is held, and watching my capacity to free myself from the mess, the tangle, the tightness.  I know the gentleness that my body can hold, the blurred line of my existence and the relaxation into the world around me that feels way more like what life should be like. 

And I'm embarking on this as we step into the Christmas season here in East Sheen, London.  Where there will be fights over the turkey timing,  differences of opinion of what presents we should buy which family members, complaints about all the little things that get brought up with lots of family around and lots of communal living to take our place in.