“Your work is to discover your world and then with all your heart give yourself to it.”

Buddha

In my north Idaho January grey, with its subtle beauty and stunted daylight, flame becomes my lifeline to the sun. When I take the time, I build my woodstove fire as I aspire to live my life:

I mindfully choose slivers from wood I have split, with full attention, and just one match. I best align flame and fuel, and lovingly feed just the right wood into just the right opening to coax flame into fire.

No fire starter, no newspaper. This method takes presence, gentleness, and patience. With that first tiny tongue of flame, my full attention reveals to me where to place the next piece for maximum gain.

Stewarding the smallest flame into full bloom in this way connects me with the primal force of fire itself. It also connects me with hope. Through the power of attention and full presence, so very much is possible.

This morning, I lit my fire my preferred way. I feel more alive, and more grateful.

I wonder where else in my life, in my urge for speed, am I missing fuller, deeper satisfaction. What about you?

To live this way, this slower, deeper, richer way, I need to step back, explore my life, and choose: what will build the best fire in me? Where do my passions lie? What do I care about now? What does the world need? Just as flame and fuel come together to create a bigger fire, I have found the same is true for me; the better I can align my passions and gifts with my sense of what is needed in the world, the brighter I become.

As humans, we have this unique ability to vision something, to lay the foundations, and nurture our vision into reality. We have the ability to lead, learn, and grow.

A newly lit fire can easily be suffocated under too much fuel. Too often though, we suffocate our dreams under the weight of our past.

To help you re-kindle your own flame, consider:

What will help you step back, reflect, and listen to your own heart? What can you do to create an oasis of calm in which to connect deeply within yourself?

Who is the deepest part of you? “Who is the you that you have left behind in the midst of all your responsibilities?” Describe who that person is.

When have you been most deeply satisfied in your life? Felt most alive? Most powerful? Most Connected? Most creative? Most at peace?

What do these answers reveal about your deep nature?

When you live from your deep nature, what calls to you? What is “your world” that you are discovering?

“At your core, you know who you are,

and you know what you want.”

Lao Tzu

“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?

How do we access grace, this rare juncture, where the power of boldness, and the ease of effortlessness, can merge as one?

Chopping wood.  The ice cool beneath my knees, the snow has been swept clear in a wide ring, to make this chopping area, here on this northern lake.  Our sled dogs, tethered between ash trees out of a chill wind, are already curled nose under tail, burrowed for the night.

Our human team still works as dusk gathers: sawing and splitting wood, cutting through the ice for water, pitching shelters.  Three trees, brought out to the ice, each thigh diameter, will be our fuel for the night.  And so I kneel, in this quiet circle, axe in leather-mittened hands, breath frosty, and chop wood.  Each piece a reminder to bring balance, to find that still point where the block of wood will stand and wait, my hands free, to yield the axe above, and then, to let its weight do the work.

I do not have to do the work. I need only to clear the circle, find the balance, lift the axe, and then let the life force, the force of gravity, the force of seeing what is possible, render the wood in two.

Again, again, and again.

The summer sun, stored in these standing dead trees, moments ago cut and hauled by hand through deep snow onto the ice, will warm us through this sub-zero night.

Where are the places where you still effort, thinking that muscle, or force of will, is the ingredient that will open the path ahead?

As I sit, and type, this body memory, of letting the axe fall, my clear focus and its own weight all that is needed to produce the results I want, fills me with deep calm.  A kind of trust in the workings of things.    And so I remind myself: once I know the work I need to do in order to honor what I am committed to, then:

Spend more time clearing the circle.  It is difficult to chop wood in trampled, deep snow.  Clearing down to firm ice gives me an effective platform for the work at hand.  The circle gives me boundaries; others do not enter the space while I chop.  I stay more present to my work, maintain my focus, and can generate an effective rhythm.

For you, this may mean a circle of time blocked into your calendar on a regular basis.  It may mean a sign on your door redirecting others to come back at another specified window of time, or handling email only during certain windows of the day. It may mean physically clearing any distractions to be able to fully focus on the work at hand.

Take the time to generate balance and strength. I will spend far more effort trying to chop a piece of wood that is not standing steady.   I am the same way; if I am not steadied by an adequate inflow of rest, movement, creativity, and healthy connections with others, then I will not be able to stand up fully into my work.

True balance is not a luxury that we add on once we achieve success; instead it is the optimization of performance every step of the way.  By making sure that your stamina, your creativity, your connectivity with others, and your clarity of thought are readily accessible to you, then your best is always within reach.

For many, this begins with exercise.  Allow your exercise to bring in joy, not just determination.  What will lift your spirits as well strengthen your muscles and your heart?  Learn too how to relax into your exertion.   As I climb the steeper inclines of my daily hike into cedar-filled hills, I consciously relax my neck, my jaw, my shoulders, arms, and hands.     I let my quadriceps contract, and the rest of me soften into the wind-lifted trees all around me.

Allow the power of focus and alignment to do your work for you. This is likely the best lesson from chopping wood.  I can fatigue fairly quickly if I power through each stroke of the axe.    While I can split some wood this way, I will not be able to sustain chopping through the mountain of wood I need to split to keep us warm on this minus 30-degree night.  Whatever the challenge you face, take the time to step back, reflect on what matters most, and then bring all of your attention to that one thing.   Let the power of your clarity work like the weight of the axe, slicing through the extraneous, the unnecessary, the distractions, all of which we often confuse for the real thing.

So…  make space for what is important. Attend to yourself.  These will allow you to approach your work with a relaxed yet powerful focus.   You will be able to accomplish more, with less effort. Some call this “flow.” I call it grace.   Whatever the name, it is a state worth striving for.