“Individuality rises out of the soul as water rises out of the depths of the earth.”  Thomas Moore

Early in 2009, inspired by commitment to adventure and inner journeying by other friends, I took a deep breath, and planned: 10 days of solo paddling and camping in my spiritual home – the deep north woods of Ontario’s Quetico wilderness.

Why? Partially, to celebrate one year of independence, having completed a collaborative divorce (yes, this is possible) the year before, and one year of growing healthy inter-dependence with friends.

But honestly, I did not know why. I knew that deep solitude, was what I longed for. I wanted a chance to re-connect deeply within me, and with the world. A chance to let go of all the places I was still holding… still holding onto the life I had planned…. a chance to deeply accept the unacceptable. A chance to heal.

Before I went, I was nervous. If I injured myself in the wilds, and could not travel, it could be days or weeks before I’d be found. While competent paddling solo, I’d never paddled the small lightweight solo canoe I’d be paired with – I felt like I was going off to meet a mail-order bride!

So, despite my fears, what helped me go?

Luckily, I was not afraid of being lonely. I love the company of pine trees, loons, and night skies. I was eager to be out – my aloneness leaving no barriers between me and life.

I could remind myself that I knew what I was doing. For I truly did.

The pivotal moment though, in the see-saw of obligations and fears vs. longing and inner knowing, was a gift. A long time friend, paddling partner, and almost-husband from my twenties sent me a treasure of an email, encouraging me on after I queried him about my plans. “You’ll do fine in a solo boat.  Your strength and joy in that environment will glow radiant.  It is a happy thought.”

Thanks Rob. The power of truth. The power of gifts we can give each other. I did not believe him because he said it; I believed him because my body resonated with the truth of his words. My head might have its concerns, but my body, my deep inner knowing, knew he was right. This trip was about opening to joy.

Bone-deep certain now of my expedition’s value to reconnect me with my own light, I sought out gifts and loans from other friends to remind me of our connections – a simple spoon with which I ate each meal, a feather-light solo tent, a special sleeping pad. Words of inspiration in my trip journal. This one stands out, and I carried it within:

“Stay safe, and keep your heart open to every experience.”

Thus buoyed by friends, I did. Here’s what I found:

A felt sense of wholeness inside myself. In every cell, a sense of “being enough” – no longer searching for external approval, or love, or direction. A sense that I could be complete, in and of myself… connected with the vastness of life.

I was at home inside myself. At peace. Flowing with the rhythms from sunrise to sunset, listening to my inner guidance on where and how far to go each day… I found I really could take care of me.

Near the end of my 150 mile trip, I saw a majestic turtle swimming in shallow water just below me, sunlight revealing her multi-hued home. Three times the size of any other turtle I’d seen in the north country, she was deep inspiration to me – almost as if my whole trip had been to allow me to glimpse her there, at peace in those waters.

She carried her safety with her, wherever she went. She could choose when to extend out, and when to rest within her shell. So can I. We all can.

She was always Home. And so are we.

I grew this precious internal sense of wholeness, safety, and grace in the midst of sweet challenge – a cliff-steep trail, an insistent headwind across miles of open water, balancing on logs traversing thigh-deep bogs, choosing which rapids to portage.

For I moved through this country very differently than I had in my old tomboy days. I did not toughen against challenge, but instead softened. Every day, I took time to nap, softening my frame into granite’s sun-warmed embrace.

Moving this way carried me farther, with more joy, than my old tough-it-out ways. I found myself paddling as many miles, traveling solo at 48, as I had ever paddled tandem. The boat (a Bell ‘Magic’) had something to do with it.

But so did grace.

After five months of savoring the grace of my own vibrant shell and my circle of community, I am ready to write again. To share as generously and as widely as friends have shared with me. For I now know that this precious sense of fullness, wholeness, and safety that I found in solitude…. is here to stay.

What is the journey your heart longs for?

Where is your spiritual home?

What helps you feel more deeply at home inside yourself?

What support could you seek out to help your dreams come true?

What helps us to be self-loving, self-gentle, and self-forgiving, so that we are able to offer the same to others from a deeply authentic place?

Years ago, one misty Minnesota morning, an older and wonderfully wise Outward Bound student, having completely missed the bar on his own expectations for himself on the ropes course the day before, greeted the rest of us with these words:

“Today is a new day.”

Simple words, yet inspiring to all of us.  Bob spoke gently and firmly, with bright eyes and open strength.

He was giving himself a fresh start, a chance to begin anew, better aligning his expectations for the future with the lessons of the past.  He was taking response-ability for doing and being his best, while also being gentle by leaving yesterday’s experience of failure  behind.

That chilly August dawn, these adult students were preparing themselves, both inwardly and outwardly, for the final challenge of the course: miles of paddling, portaging, and running that would eventually lead back to Homeplace, the base camp we were starting from.  They would begin paddling and portaging in teams, then would do the final running leg solo, each to the best of their ability.

My staff role that day was starter and finisher; to send them off with inspiration, and to help them celebrate their success when they crossed the finish line.

I smile as I type now, 20 years later, still remembering Bob’s radiant presence as he crossed the finish line, body weary, and spirit triumphant.  It was not that he was first, or even fast; it was that he had given his whole heart. He had run without the weight of “yesterday” on his shoulders; he had run freely, carrying only his hopes and aspirations for today.

Best of all, for the remainder of our time together, Bob was a bright light in our group; his self-love and self-forgiveness, and resulting self-triumph, radiated a warmth and love to the rest of our circle such that more was possible for all of us.

What of yesterday do you need to lay down in order to be fully free today?

Where in your life could you declare,  “Today is a new day”?

For me, today I begin immersion in 6 days of Nia white belt training.  My “new day” declaration is to let go from most all of my computer time and inflows so that I can fully immerse in my Nia practice, in “the body’s way,” in order to absorb all the learning and healing I can.  Like most of us, I spend too much time at the keyboard and not enough time being fully alive.  This is my way to let yesterday be in the past, so that today, and tomorrow, are free to unfold.

It is my way to be self-loving, self-gentle, and self-forgiving, so that I can offer the same to others from a deeply authentic place.

What is yours?

“Each morning we are born again. 
What we do today is what matters most.” – Buddha

Ever wake up in the morning, realizing the way you saw the world last night was just one way, one possibility, vs. the certain truth? That today can be a day of discovery, of new life, and possibility?  Have you ever realized you have seen another through your own fear instead of staying open, curious and welcoming to who they really are?

For, again in the words of Buddha,  “If we could see the miracle of a single flower clearly, our whole life would change.”

As always, today is a new day.  On this particular today, delayed in Denver’s sun-filled airport, I’m taking time out to ask: what stories am I generating about the people around me, and the world around me? What barriers am I constructing that I can tear down so that I can experience life anew?  It’s a bit of a humbling inventory….

How do I know? 

I am a consummate journaler. I journal so I can watch myself. What are my thoughts and emotions? Which ones are accurate?  Which are not? Often, when I am writing, I fall in the trap many of us do: assuming my thoughts are true!

Here is one of the gifts of journaling: this morning, reading back into last night, I can see one thought – one fear-generated balloon that passed through my mind – which I snatched out of thin air and asserted as truth.   This morning, with the rearview mirror a journal provides, I can see that this thought is really only one possibility.

I won’t share the mud of the thought – containing our own mud is one thing a  journal is for – but this process served as a great reminder…. don’t believe everything you think!

“Keep yourself clean and bright.  For you are the window through which you see the world.”   George Bernard Shaw

What could you do to better notice what’s on your window?  

What will help you keep yourself “clean and bright?”

Learning is one of the most powerful tools we can bring to any challenge. It is a direct off-ramp from blame, or shame, and a direct on-ramp to being able to proactively shape the future.

Where in your world might you benefit from shifting from blaming, or searching for blame, to learning?

Identify an issue, arena, or relationship that you are struggling with, and ask yourself: 

What do I notice about this situation? What am I learning? What might I do differently?