Fulfillment is living WIN

It's not what you do some of the time that counts, it's what you do all the time that counts. Jack LaLanne

My mornings have taken on a different flow. No longer stirring at the crack of dawn, I awaken slowly, letting the sun warm up the air outside the window, entreating the birds to get busy twittering at the feeder. The rhythm of my day takes on a different timber, the ebb and flow becomes less frantic, as I open up to having a day of no commitments, no, 'To Do List", no deadlines or crisis to meet.

In my recovery, lying here with my foot up, watching the birds and bees in my back yard, what I do all the time becomes much more apparent. No matter my day, no matter the daily need of getting things done that have to be done, of having my day hi-jacked from the first phone call or email requesting an answer or information or help, what I do is ask myself, as Brian Willis of Winning Mind Training teaches: What's Important Now -- WIN.

No matter the circumstances, no matter the crisis or situation, my WIN dictates that I create more of what works in my life and less of what doesn't by asking myself -- what's my WIN?

Healing is a priority for me right now. Staying off my foot creates a better outcome for the future than ignoring my doctor's advice and getting busy 'being busy'.

What I'm realizing as I sink into this moment of unpressured time, is that often my 'busyness' is a way of avoiding putting my focus where it needs to be to create the life of my dreams.

Fulfilling dreams is important work. And it can be scary too. By making myself appear soooo busy that I don't have time to do What's Important Now, I build in a ready made excuse for why I'm not doing what I dream of doing -- as opposed to loving what I'm doing.

See, I love working in a homeless shelter. I love what I do there -- but, I still have other dreams, other priorities, other goals that are important to me -- and in this unstructured time, this gift of time to heal, I can spend my time looking out the window, watching the birds, or, I can spend my time creating the WIN in my life.

The choice is mine.

It's now Day 9 since I came home from the hospital. I've given myself ten days to rest and recuperate, to enjoy the sensation of 'no pressure' to get anything done. In the gift of that time, I have awoken to the reality of my WIN.

What's Important Now is that I get creating. Creating an outline for my new book. Creating a plan. Creating a map.

I've been given the gift of time. It is up to me to fill it with What's Important Now.

If I had but one prayer

The mind is like a crazy monkey, which leaps about and never stays in one place. It is completely restless and constantly paranoid about its surroundings. From "Trapping hte Monkey" in THE TEACUP AND THE SKULLCUP: CHOGYAM TRUNGPA ON ZEN AND TANTRA.
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Lying in bed, 'doing nothing', is a great opportunity to reflect, and to 'do nothing'. At least, it would be a great time for such indulgence if my monkey mind didn't keep interfering.

"Don't be so lazy. Get busy." Its voice whispers with a sibilant hiss oozing like steam seeping from a lumbering volcano.

The more rational part of me leaps in to defend my indolence. "Get busy doing what? Not much I can do hobbling around on crutches."

But still the monkey mind persists. "There's gotta be something you can do. Quit lying there feeling sorry for yourself. Nobody likes a lazy person."

Ahhh, the power of the monkey mind to disturb peace of mind and tranquility.

My lovely friend CW wrote me today and offered up a quote from Buddha, “Patience is the greatest prayer.”

If I had one prayer, it would be, "Thank you."

Perhaps gratitude is the most powerful force for healing.

As I lay in my bed I whisper to the birds at the feeder, "Thank you for brightening my day. Thank you for your song. Your lithesome spirit. Your twittering verse."

I look up through the green leaves of the birch and apple trees to the blue sky beyond and whisper, "Thank you for your shade. Your whispering leaves. Your beauty."

Gratitude.

To fall into prayer I must surrender my ego's need to justify my existence -- my state of doing nothing, as well as my state of doing 'busy'. To surrender, I must release my need to feel that everything I do matters. As my daughter Alexis recently wrote on her blog, "I am nothing. And everything... I do not matter. And yet, I am matter, so I must."

I must surrender my need to matter enough that my matter becomes all that matters to me. When I matter enough to cherish the goodness in my being me, to respond from my highest good, no matter the weather, the time of day or night, or the circumstances surrounding me, then I will have fallen into that place where all that matters is -- the moment in which I breathe.

I move into gratitude, the gateway to patience. If I had but one prayer, let it be, Thank you.

The question is: Have you prayed today?

Everything begins with hope

When we choose not to focus on what is missing from our lives but are grateful for the abundance that's present....we experience heaven on earth. Sarah Breathnack

My world has narrowed into vistas of our backyard. It has become a daily joy of watching birds frolic in the giant apple tree, where they eat from the feeder or peck at the fruit just starting to appear. They chase each other around and about, squawking and twittering. Big birds. Little birds. Medium sized birds all vying for a place to perch upon the edge of the feeder, in the limbs of the trees or on the rim of the birdbath.

On the weekend, C.C. mounted the fountain I bought some months ago onto the outside wall of the garage. It's a replica of a fountain you might find in Italy or France, a lion's head with water spouting out of its mouth into a large cavern. This morning, I watched as two robins swam in the pool, splashing around, gaily singing as they pecked at themselves and each other.

It is a world of wonder.

Yesterday I received a call from someone I had spoken with once, about a year ago. She had called to ask my advice on her marriage. "I need to leave. I need to stay. I need to keep myself safe." Words I have heard many times from women all over who are mired in the arms of deceit, looking for sense in the nonsensical. "I can play his game," she said.

"Why would you want to?" I asked.

Life is a journey of seemingly small moments opened up into expanding horizons when we have the courage to ask the difficult questions we have been avoiding, or don't want to see, or don't want to face. Life is always a question of, Am I willing to do the right thing, or the easy thing? Am I willing to turn up in all my truth and beauty, warts and all, or do I want to keep pretending I don't see reality as it is.

My friend Mark posts a blog every morning. This morning, he wrote, "Maybe everything begins with hope. And ends without it."

When I contemplated the surgery on my foot, I hoped I'd feel better after it. Hoped I'd be able to run again, to ski, to hike, to do the things I love to do but have been limited in doing because of the damage to my foot. Sitting here in bed, with my foot up, watching the birds outside my window, that hope still lives. My foot is healing. I am becoming more adept at managing my crutches and less crotchety about being limited in my mobility. I have hope.

Someone dear to me is diagnosed with cancer and I pray he will be able to overcome it. I have hope, as does he and those who love him.

I watch the birds outside my window and am in awe of the beauty and the simplicity of life. Every morning they appear at the feeder in hope of finding food. When there is none, they flutter away to look elsewhere. There is always hope they will find it. There is always the hope that I will remember to fill it again before the next morning. Lying here watching them has become such a gift, their hope is not futile. I will ensure the feeder is always full.

Hope, like love, is always there. It is up to us to focus on what we want. To do the right thing to make it happen. To commit ourselves to believing; in our dreams, ourselves, the abundance of the universe, the power of love to give wings to our hope so that we can live free of fear there will be no tomorrow more beautiful than today.

There is always more beauty abounding when I live in hope of being more and more of who I am meant to be with each day passing. There is always the hope that I will create the life of my dreams with more clarity and vision when I live today as if it is my best day yet and stay focused on being my most magnificent self, in awe of the world around me, living this wild and precious life in the rapture of being alive.

Someone once told me hope was an empty word not worth speaking.

I disagree. Hope is the tiny spark that ignites our imaginations and transforms dreams into heaven on earth. Everything does begin with hope.

The question is: Are you letting go of hope to become mired in disbelief that there is nothing more, or nothing better for you, here on earth? Are you willing to count your blessings and transform your world into heaven on earth?

Open to Love

The moment one gives close attention to anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnified world in itself. Henry Miller

Sometimes in life, mysterious things happen which we do not see or understand or believe. In our desire to make sense of the unbelievable, we scramble around searching for meaning, for some reason why, only to come up empty handed.

Sometimes, the only answer to 'why' truly is the answer our parents gave and we gave as parents. "Because it is so."

Life is a constant journey of one moment leading into the next, of one event flowing into another, seemingly at times without rationale cause, without direction without some 'grand plan' or design.

There are moments when, as a mother, I wish I had a better answer for my daughters than, 'Because it is so." I wish I could swipe a beautiful magic wand and make pain and fear and heartache disappear. I wish I could carry their pain and leave them free to dance in the sunlight, to run through rain showers and shimmer in the rising moon.

But I can't.

I can never take away someone else's pain. Never make sense of turmoil in someone else's life, no matter how much I might want to or even try.

And when someone I love is in a place of pain and turmoil, all I can offer is the one thing that never ends, Love.

All I can do is love them, love me, love the world around me and know, and believe and embrace the truth -- love is all that counts. Love is all that matters.

I have been off work for a week now. Away from the daily turmoil and drama of a homeless shelter, it is easy to see how I can become so wrapped up in the world around me, I lose sight of the people closest to me in this world, my friends and family.

Last night, a girlfriend dropped by to visit. My daughters and a friend dropped in, my girlfriend's husband dropped in and when C.C. came home, he lit up the barbecue and we shared a meal.

Sitting there in the garden, the water spouting, or as C.C. likes to joke, spewing, from the lion's head fountain. The trees shading us, the scent of flowers a delicate fragrance on the evening breeze, I knew love. I could feel it. Embrace it. Hold it and be held in its embrace.

No matter what life brings. No matter the turmoil, angst, hardship or heartbreak, love is all that counts.

Life brings us challenges. We succeed in life when we rise to the challenges and move through each moment aligning who we are with everything we do. Sometimes, we may move with grace and ease, dignified in our every word and action. Sometimes, we may stumble and falter, awkward in our every response.

No matter how we move, when we surrender and fall in love, with every step we take we are beauty in motion, a world of love in action.

Life is filled with wonder. And life is filled with the unbelievable. Sometimes, the wonder comes on a field of sorrow we cannot believe we will ever endure. No matter how life appears and opens up the moment before us, it is up to each of us to open ourselves up to the wonder of the world around us, and, in spite of our pain, or suffering, stay open to Love.

Healing

I have a couple of girlfriends who are like, healing. We take care of each
other. They know when I need to be taken care of. Maggie Gyllenhaal

I am truly blessed. Over the course of the past week, as I've mostly laid in bed, foot elevated, napping and reading then napping some more, I have been blessed by my friends and family who have phoned and visited, dropped off flowers -- and wine -- and simply given me a supportive hug or ear. My friends and family are my healing circle.

I am, as C.C. will tell you, not a very patient woman. Particularly, when patience is needed for myself. Being constricted by having to hobble around on crutches is a pain! I'm learning to balance myself on my crutches, and I'm learning patience.

Russian novelist, Leo Tolstoy, once wrote, "The two most powerful warriors are patience and time.”

I know that in time, my foot will quit hurting and I will be able to walk without crutches. It's getting to the 'in time' part that I lose patience with! I want it now. And I know that in my 'wanting it now' I am undermining my healing. Short circuiting time's gentle passage and its ability to heal all wounds.

And so I breathe.

The only way to 'speed up' the healing cycle is to give into my bodies need to rest. To keep my foot elevated as much as possible and to stop trying to do more than I need to do in this moment.

Time is a powerful warrior! And a powerful tool.

I was very fortunate while I was in the hospital. I had a semi-private room -- and no one in the other bed. Until the next morning after my surgery. A young pregnant woman arrived and needed surgery. I apologized after the nurse left her bedside and told her, "I couldn't help but over hear your conversation. Are you scared for your baby?"

"Yes," she whispered, her voice filled with tears. "I'm scared what the anesthetic will do to my baby."

Sometimes, we don't know the value of our experience until many years later. When I was pregnant with my eldest daughter, Alexis, 23 years ago, I had to have surgery at the 14 week mark of my pregnancy. Serious surgery. They told me I wasn't pregnant. I said I was. They gave me drugs anyway. A week after the surgery, they came back and said, "Oh look. You are pregnant." I spent the next six months terrified the drugs would have an effect upon my unborn child's development.

If it did, I'm grateful. From birth, it was pretty evident that Alexis was an amazing human being.

Lying in my bed, the curtain drawn between us, I shared the story of my surgery during pregnancy and my fears for Alexis' health. I told her about my amazing daughter, about her intelligence and talent and incredible spirit.

"Really?" the woman asked me. "She's okay?"

"She's more than okay," I said. "She's incredible."

When I left the woman stopped me and said. "Thank you for sharing your story. You've eased my fears."

We don't know what we don't know.

I never knew that one day my experience would give hope to another woman in the same situation. I never knew that I would be able to ease someone else's fears through sharing mine.

I am healing. I didn't know before I had this surgery how frustrating it would be -- I also didn't know what a gift of time it could be.

I'm starting to feel more clear headed. Less fuzzy-brained. The anesthetic and drugs are easing off and while I remain somewhat hindered by the crutches and the need to keep my foot elevated, I am free to read and write and sleep and think and enjoy the beauty of this day.

Life is a gift. Each moment a precious drop of beauty waiting to expand into joy and love and laughter and healing.

Each day is an opportunity to live it up -- no matter your circumstances.

I'm living today as if it's my best day yet. Thank you everyone who has emailed or commented. Thank you for your well wishes and your love and support. You make a difference!

See you tomorrow!

Nameste.

Louise

A lesson from my sister

I am out of commission for a few days as I get 'purdy feet'! I hope to be back online by the weekend -- please keep checking back. I promise -- if you check back, I'll get writing!

With me this morning I am taking a vision of my eldest sister, J.T. She is the word 'courage' in action. A week ago she had an operation that changed the state of her body. How it operates and how it looks. It was a long time coming. A disease she's carried around with her most of her life finally took its toll, requiring major surgery and alteration to give her a better quality of life.

In the intervening week, as she's recovered, she has been positive, optimistic and upbeat in her outlook about both the changes to her body, and her 'new reality'.

We can all learn from J.T.s attitude and perspective.

Her body has been changed. Her attitude has remained constant. Throughout the pain and trauma, she has held her ground on accepting -- this is my reality. How do I make it work for me?

My surgery is nowhere near as serious. 'They' tell me the pain will be substantial. I get to choose how I respond to it.

I choose, with grace and dignity.

It's a lesson I learned from my sister.

Have a great day. Keep smiling. Keep being your most amazing self and keep making the world a reflection of your beauty!

The power of golf

If you don't know where you are going, how can you expect to get there? Basil S. Walsh

Yesterday, we knew where we were going. We were just having a lot of trouble getting there!

It was a bright, blue sky prairie afternoon. C.C., my daughters Alexis and Liseanne and I, all decked out in our matching black shirts, the girls in matching plaid golf shorts and white runners, climbed into two carts and joined in the fun at a golf tournament to support the scholarship program at Choices. And a fun time was had by all...

Now, it's important to know that the only golfer on our team was C.C. I played twice last year (the only two times in my life) and C.C. arranged a lesson for the girls on Friday at his Club. That's it, three players who have hit the ball maybe 50 times out of 1,000 tries, and a man whose competitive spirit will always beat him to the pin.

Fortunately, it was a best ball tournament -- which meant we mostly shot from C.C.s position on the course -- otherwise, we'd still be trying to get the ball in the hole!

Like life, golf is a head game. The more you let your head get in the way, the harder it is to get the ball to fly straight.

C.C. won the award for patience yesterday -- even though his game fell apart. How couldn't it not fall apart when it took 23 tries for Liseanne to hit the ball off the first tee? Between fits of laughter and admonitions to 'keep your eye on the ball', he had to let go of any expectations of a serious round of golf. The girls did win the award for being the 'cutest' on the course and he did win a prize for hitting his ball into the water on the left side of the fairway on the 9th hole! I too hit the water -- after I'd missed it. Hit my ball into the trees at the edge of the water and it shot back out of the forest into the pond! Go figure. Neither hazard was even close to where I intended the ball to go!

And that's where the head game gets into play.

Liseanne was frustrated from the get-go. "I kinda psyched myself out on that first tee," she told someone at the banquet following the game. "It took me awhile to get centered after that. Had to do yoga on each hole. And I did learn to do a cartwheel. First time in my life. I did one on every green after that!"

A quarter way through the round the wind picked up and we battled elements and the course. Alexis huddled in the cart, trying to stay warm but when she hit the ball, her natural focus paid off. Her ball always went where she directed it, just not very far.

Me. I got in a few good shots, but mostly, I let myself focus on having fun -- and not taking myself too seriously. Good thing. With the wind, the ball never had a chance of going where I intended it anyway!

The thing about golf though is you have to know where you want the ball to go before you hit it. And, you have to know where you're going as you traipse the course -- otherwise, you can end up on the wrong tee box. Which is what happened to us yesterday.

We started at the 17th hole -- but we couldn't find it. Perhaps the course officials forgot that in a Texas Scramble -- every team starts on a different hole -- you should provide a map to where you need to go. Ten minutes after starting out in search of the hole, we finally found it. Don't you love it when men play true to stereotype? :) C.C., didn't think it necessary to stop and ask for directions...

The real lesson yesterday though came in the laughter and giggles the four of us shared throughout the day. Driving the carts, hunting for balls, taking swings -- at the ball and each other, we were lucky to spend an afternoon filled with what makes life rich and meaningful. Time spent with those we love.

In the end, all that really mattered was we came in from the course with smiles on our faces and the memory of a good time. For the girls and me, it was a chance to try our hands, (and backs and arms and legs and psyches) at a game we'd never really had a chance to experience. For C.C., it was a chance to share his love of the game with people he loves and who love him. As we drove home Alexis said, "I could get to like this game."

I watched the smile on C.Cs face broaden into a beam.

Yup.

It's important to know where you're going.

I set out in the morning, thinking we were going to play a round of golf. Have some fun. Share some laughs. I didn't anticipate the impact of sharing in the game with the people I love most in the world would have upon my heart. The power of spending time together on a course, amidst the beauty of trees and mountain views, surrounded by nature and those you love -- what an amazing gift!

It was a fitting end to my 'summer'. Tomorrow, I am having surgery on my foot and will be out of commission for a few weeks. It also means I'll be out of commission here for a few days too. 'They' tell me the pain is rather fierce for the first few days. I'll be in hospital for the night, home on Wednesday and laid up with my foot in a cast until the end of October. I'll be back here later this week -- once my head has cleared.

Take good care. Live this one wild and precious life as if there is no tomorrow! Today is the present. A gift to be savoured and enjoyed.

Nameste!