“You must do the things you think you cannot do…”

 Eleanor Roosevelt

 What is courage, if not the ability to act as our spirits lead?

I often hear struggle ensue when our inner knowing provides a clear path forward – but not an easy one.  We sometimes then wrestle mightily to honor that inner wisdom – our intuition or our body knowing – often for longer than we care to admit!    Yet, to not act on these knowings means we risk losing ourselves, and over time the costs become clear.

Thus, these moments come, as Denise Levertov describes below, where struggle gives way to courage, opening our hearts to own strength, and to faith in Spirit’s leading – even when this means swimming upstream of others’ expectations.  

In these moments, it is as if we are touched by a far greater force.  We find that we can do “the things (we) think (we)  cannot do.”

 Where is your inner wisdom leading you?

What is the “the thing you think you cannot do?’

Where is the place to put your attention that will help you live your courage?

Variation On A Theme By Rilke

(The Book of Hours, Book I, Poem 1, Stanza 1)

 A certain day became a presence to me;

there it was, confronting me — a sky, air, light:

a being. And before it started to descend

from the height of noon, it leaned over

and struck my shoulder as if with

the flat of a sword, granting me

honor and a task. The day’s blow

rang out, metallic — or it was I, a bell awakened,

and what I heard was my whole self

saying and singing what it knew: I can.

 ~ Denise Levertov ~

If we want to live fully, we’ve got to give it all we’ve got.

Where do you long to lean into life?

Jan 9, 2009.  I’m only 30 minutes from my desk, but I feel, literally, as if I am on top of the world.

Six of us huddle close at 6,ooo feet, drinking in views  that stretch into Montana and British Columbia. Peering down, we watch sunlight toy with softening clouds nestled over the lake  below.  All by itself, the view is enough.   But Gary is talking. 

“Roll from your big toe edges, across the flat part of your skis, to your baby toe edges. Now, in the part of your turn where are you are on flat ski, stay there longer. Hang out in that feeling. You’ll have more power going into your next turn.  Try it.”

Gary, early seventies, retired hand surgeon, coaxes the five us of to trust the mountain- to lean downhill.  Brilliant, funny, and kind, he knows his skiing. I trust him, so I give myself fully to learning.

I seek out that moment of suspension, in between turns.  Quietly skimming over snow, I allow myself to accelerate into my next turn.  For a moment in time, I am simply floating in space.

The feeling is pure exhilaration.

We keep skiing, joyful in that moment of free fall.  Next though, moving over onto a steep black diamond, where the mountain falls away, I’m suddenly nervous.  My body knows that new feeling though, and I want more of it.  I commit to finding that moment again, and it works – beautifully!  

Giving myself so fully into the shape of the turn, I am perfectly aligned for full power in the next turn, and the next.  I’m hooked. After class, I swing back up and make three more solo runs, down that steep pitch, savoring this new feeling of 100% commitment, trusting the mountain, trusting myself, trusting life.

Where do you long to give yourself to the mountain?

Willingness.  Skiing well requires a willingness to trust the mountain, to believe in what we cannot see.  Leaning downhill, giving our mass over to physics, creates more traction, more power, more connection with the slope and the snow.  With this simple act, we open the possibility of mastery.

Commitment. Whatever the challenge we face, there is this moment of commitment, in which some intangible part of us needs to lean downhill.  When we do, something intangible comes to meet us.

From The Scottish Himalayan Expedition, Murray, 1951

Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness.  Concerning all active of initiative (and creation) there is one elemental truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans:

That the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too.  All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred.   A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way.  I have learned a deep respect for one of Goethe’s couplets:

“Whatever you can do,

or dream you can,

begin it.

Boldness has genius,

power, and magic in it.”

Where do you most want to commit fully?

What will help you begin?