Are we done here?

The two hour cup of tea

The three hour dinner date 

The silence that rings with the echo of a just-chanted Om

The happy-sad feeling of coming to the end of a beautifully written book

The wide open possibility of the very first moment your eyes open in the morning
Ahh, don’t those feel good? So good that you maybe want to hang around for a little while–you know, linger…?

Today, I’m campaigning on behalf of the Lost Art of Lingering (brace yourselves for an onslaught of ellipses!).  I’m advocating a return to the incomparably delicious pleasure of savoring something all the way through to the end…and then giving it even more time and space to resonate with and in you. And, because I know that change begins at home, this essay is my declaration of intent.

This issue popped on my radar screen when I was out to dinner with a friend recently. We had a great meal at our neighborhood spot, tasty food and solidly entertaining conversation.  I was really enjoying myself. I thought we both were. But as soon as the credit card slips were signed, my friend jumped up and, seeming to already be halfway out the door, asked me if I was ready to go.  Well, not really, but you’re not leaving me much choice, I thought. Also, what on earth have I done to send you fleeing from the table? Is there  spinach in my teeth? Do I have a spot of politics stuck to my cheek? And can I at least finish my water?

It turned out that my friend’s haste was inspired by his concerns for the waitstaff–the more tables they get in a night, the greater their income potential–and not at all a reflection of our shared experience. And once my concerns were allayed, the situation got me thinking about what I would have wanted instead. Rather than that jarring end, I would have preferred to stay at the table sharing some final words and laughter or simply sitting in companionable silence, bathing in the energy of our shared meal. In other words, I would have preferred to linger. 

That, in turn, got me to thinking about the many ways in which I have gotten in the habit of doing the precise opposite, the ways in which I tend to bring my own experiences to a jarring, incomplete end. In other words, rushing. Alas, I am very well practiced at the art of moving quickly from one experience of the next in rapid succession with little transition or even time to catch my breath. It’s just one thing to the next: Finished the book? Ok, that was nice, now it’s time to check email. Almost finished eating? Ok, then go ahead and get started on writing that note. Finished practicing asana? Ok, now it’s time to hop up and go start the laundry. Even though I knew it had become a habit, when I began to pay attention, I was astonished by how often I sacrificed opportunities to linger on the altar of busyness in the name of getting things done. 

And those missed opportunities matter. They make the difference between arriving at the end of the day with a sense of fullness and completion and falling into bed with tomorrow’s to do list running circles in my mind. They make the difference between savoring the full arc of an experience and only dimly noting its passing. They reflect the difference between being fully present to this moment and living in my mind’s version of the next. 

That’s why I’m now committing to deep practice of the Lost Art of Lingering. I want to savor, to luxuriate, to taste every last drop of every single blessing that comes my way.
So, I ask you, will you join me? And if so, how will you savor the moments?

Yes, And…?

Rule #1: Say Yes

Rule #2: Not Only Say Yes… Say Yes And 

-The first two Rules of Improv as expressed by Tina Fey

I knew that Tina Fey was brilliant from her TV and film work, but reading her memoir Bossypants introduced me to a whole new level of girl crush. The book was a tremendously fun read that also offered substantial lessons. The biggest Aha! for me came when I read about these Rules. No sooner had I digested them than the lessons started smacking me in the face…

At restaurants:

Man: Hi, how are you this evening?

Me: Good, thanks, how are you?

Man: Good, good. I was staring because you remind of someone I know, you look just like her

Me, smiling: Oh, yes? You know, I get that all the time. I think I just have one of those faces!

(Man, stands awkwardly for a few beats and then wanders away…)

At parties:

Husband: Come on, join me on the dance floor

Wife: No, I don’t want to

Husband: Please? I’d really love to have you join me, and besides its a tradition.

Wife, agitated: I said I’m not doing it.

(Husband stands before her, entreatingly)

Father-in-law, unaware of what has already transpired: Won’t you join us on the dance floor, he called for all the married couples?

Wife, red-faced and strident: I said, NO!

(Husband, Father-in-law retreat; Wife sits alone and agitated)

At work:

Colleague, urgently: So, can you come to the meeting? It’d be a real coup to have an MD there.

Me, cautiously: I’ll have to check my calendar and get back to you. But beyond the logistics, there’s the question of what my role will be at the meeting.

Colleague, airily: Oh, well, it’s all about their a work to standardize care, so, you know…

Me: Actually, I don’t necessarily. That’s not one of my particular areas of expertise, so I’m not sure that I have a clear role to play here

All three of these scenarios are great examples of people, mostly me, saying No. Sometimes it’s an explicit No, as in the case of me to my colleague and the wife to her husband. Other times it’s an unintentional No as in the case of me and that poor man who was, I later realized, trying to flirt with me (imagine that, a man crosses a restaurant to talk to a women because he wants to hit on her, not because he wants to talk about how much she looks like his Great Aunt Mildred!!) Either way, I realized that I had a surprising amount of No in my life. 
To be perfectly clear, I am a fan of the word No. I believe that there is tremendous power in the word No. It is a precious tool for setting boundaries and, in that capacity, a complete sentence unto itself. Check it out: No. Two letters, one period, an entire thought conveyed. You may choose to window dress it with a thank you if the situation warrants, but that No will be just fine on its own. No can be deeply empowering and, as any women’s magazine will rush to remind you, it’s a word that women often struggle to embrace. So, I’m not throwing shade at the word No or those who use it.

I am, however, casting light on the realization that for me there are at least two types of No: the healthy, boundary-setting ones and the far less healthy reflexive ones. The former are all about my personal integrity and staying aligned with what feels right for me. The latter are all about maintaining the status quo, often more specifically maintaining my current parameters and/or limitations. I’ve learned to tell the difference by how I feel:

A boundary-setting No rings in my chest and I feel my energy simultaneously open into the space and more firmly ground into the earth. It’s a really cool centering process. 

A reflexive No feels like a closing, a drawing-in of my front body and I feel my energy tense and get murky as I work to pull it in. 

And I think that’s the key. In the latter, I have to work to pull my energy in because my head and heart are running different programs; my head is running the Withdraw script, but my heart is running the Engage script, and it takes effort to override that. I’m often saying No in these situations because I’ve convinced myself that I can’t say Yes. That I don’t have the skills, the resources, the knowledge, the whatever to engage with whatever it is. The effort to drown out my heart’s wisdom on the matter takes me out of alignment with my higher wisdom and leaves me with a wicked emotional hangover.

So, inspired by the fantastic Ms. Fey, I decided to start playing life like more an improv game. What if, I challenged myself, you found a way to say Yes to everyone you meet today? Bonus Challenge Round: What if you found a way to not only say Yes, but also to say Yes And? 

Well, I’ll tell you, it’s a lot. A whole lot. And it’s all good. I cannot honestly claim that I manage to say Yes to everyone, but I’ve been saying Yes far, far more frequently:

My seatmate on the plane starts a conversation and I say Yes by holding off on my headphones and responding

My colleague asks me to participate in a meeting and I say Yes by clearly articulating how I understand my potential contributions and verifying whether that will be valuable in this particular client interaction

My friend asks for a favor and I find a way to do it, even in the midst of a four-city week

My client asks me to do the literally undoable and I say Yes by offering what we can do that will still move us towards their goal  

My partner and I hit a tender spot and I say Yes by sharing my feelings with him rather than yelling my story at him

What I have come to realize is that Yes, And is simply another face of surrendering to what is. These Rules are a brilliantly simple template for how to surrender to each other, to the reality of how other people are showing up in this moment and the reality of the space between you. They’re a powerful reminder of how important it is that we meet each other where we are. Which, to be clear, doesn’t mean giving the other person control. You’ll notice that several of those Yes examples were as much about me setting my boundaries–this is where I can comfortably meet you–as they were about saying Yes. That kind of Yes allows me to contribute while growing at a pace that works for me. Sure, it’s a challenge, but it’s scoped so that there’s a nice mix of comfort zone and stretch. And it universally strengthens the relationship, because people can feel when you’re willing to engage with them and they respond, finding their own ways to meet you in the middle. 
So, I ask you, how many people will you surrender to today? And how will you express that surrender with a Yes, And? 

So, people do this for fun?

You gotta lay off the brakes.
Yeah, I understand that. Because in order to be able to steer I need some forward momentum, right?
Ok, so then ease off the brakes a little…
I know, I know, and I would, but I’m scared!

This last bit wailed as I contemplated the single dirt track before me. Already tired from a full day of training and the first, uphill portion of the ride, I was halfway through my first mountain bike experience. The scenery was breathtakingly gorgeous and I was in lovely company, but I was learning that when they said “trail” my fiends really meant Trail. We had just ridden up to the ridge and then along the ridge line and were entering the “fun” part of the ride, the downhill. I say “fun” because moving very fast isn’t really my thing. By which I mean, I pretty much hate it because it petrifies me. Add in all sorts of obstacles like rocks and boulders and roots and trees and curves and other riders and you pretty much have my personal nightmare. So then, Why on earth, you ask, did I get on a mountain bike in the first place? Good question…

For the same reason that I got on that damn jet ski in Bermuda
For the same reason that I got in that confounded snowboard in Attitash, and

For the same reason that I’ll soon be getting on a skateboard: because

The way out of fear isn’t safety, it’s freedom

Martha Beck said that. And although I didn’t say it, I believe it wholeheartedly; indeed, I’ve taken it as one of my mantras for wholehearted, expansive living.

In this case,
It’s the freedom of feeling the trees whisper as I ride by
It’s the freedom of learning how to steer that one chute filled with rocks and roots
It’s the freedom of seeing the world from a new perspective
It’s the freedom of dancing in the world in a new way
It’s the freedom of a Whoo hoo! ripped from my (still-constricted, but steadily relaxing) chest
It’s the freedom of letting my fears show me where there’s room to grow without ever letting them define me

The fear is going to be there, often for very good reasons such as helping you to avoid making high-speed unintended contact with the rocky ground or, and I’m just spitballing here, being squeezed to death between those two trees that are set at an impossibly narrow angle across the trail from each other… Ok, perhaps, some reasons are more rational than others, but at its core the fear is there to protect us. And we all know that it’s very good at its job, and we all know that it’s often too good at its job. As I see it, the adventure of life is finding the freedom that balances out and even neutralize the fear.

So, I ask you, what are you fearing today? And how will you breathe into the freedom of doing it anyway?

Are you sure this is what I ordered?

Ask for what you want and be prepared to get it.
-Maya Angelou

As with so many quotations found on the interwebs, I cannot be completely certain that this one is correctly attributed to Mother Maya, but it does sound like her. You immediately feel the power of the words and their truth rings in your bones. And then, as the ringing subsides, you start to wonder…Is this a blessing? Or a warning?

Yes.

It’s both.
It is simultaneously and equally a call to action and a reminder.
A call to claim our power as deliberate creators, authors of our own lives, and shapers of our own realities.
and
A reminder that once you invite the energies of the Universe in, you’d better fasten your seatbelt because you’re in for one hell of a ride!

And for me, it points to the importance of what I call Integration Time. Integration Time takes many forms:
A short nap after a powerful coaching session
A quick snooze after a massage
A lie-down after a high-flying training session

Well, okay, apparently Integration Time takes one form, but it does show up in many situations. In every one, deliberately inviting my Mind to shut down gives my system the opportunity to process whatever magic I’ve just experienced. I have found that it is an incredibly powerful way to really learn the lessons at a cellular level and integrate the new insights into my path moving forward. Hence, my name for the practice. (To be fair, I may also have heard the term somewhere and recognized it’s rightness; it’s hard to be certain when you’re a bibliophile word magpie)

Beyond discrete experiences, the principles of Integration Time can be a powerful tool when we enter a new phase or welcome new elements into our lives–new homes, new loves, new communities, new jobs, you name it! All of these things represent the arrival of something passionately asked for. And they can all throw us for a loop when they arrive. Especially if their arrival catapults us out of our comfort zone. Even if they catapult us into new levels of bliss, we may be disturbed by the departure from the status quo.

Lots of folks have written about this phenomenon; the wisdom that I find most helpful is Gay Hendricks’ writing on what he calls the Upper Limit Problem:

“Each of us has an inner thermostat setting that determines how much love, success, and creativity we allow ourselves to enjoy. When we exceed our inner thermostat setting, we will often do something to sabotage ourselves, causing us to drop back into the old familiar zone where we feel secure.”

You might, for example, find yourself a few months into a lovely new relationship and suddenly start focusing on three things that he hasn’t done. This, instead of appreciating the three thousand thoughtful things that he has done and continues to do. And in this “purely hypothetical scenario” you might catch your Mind spending lots of time worrying about why he hasn’t done the three things. And what it means that he hasn’t yet done the three things? And whether or not he will ever do The Three Things!? And what it will portend if he never does The Three Things!?! And you might, just possibly drive yourself a little bit batty about The. Three. THINGS!!
And while being batty no longer feels good to you, it does bring your overall level of good-feeling firmly back into your old comfort zone.
Ahhh…

Or, maybe you experience a triumph at work…and then go home and argue with a loved one.
Or, maybe you finally beat your PR…and then fumble a routine assignment at work.
Or, maybe you sell a painting…and then sprain your knee.

In each case, the emotional arc goes: Yipee!! Uh oh, this is awfully high! Drama, drama, drama. Ahhh, hello comfort zone…
I’m simplifying, of course, but those are the major milestones. Well, most of them, because next is:
Ugh…
Because once you’ve expanded, once you’ve tasted that new joy, there’s never really any going back. Your baseline has officially been reset.
And the question then becomes, will you allow it? Will you deliberately relax, lean in, and surrender to the juicy stuff that’s beckoning you from just a breath away?
The miracle of it is that you don’t even have to know why you’re Upper Limiting, you just have to recognize that you’re doing it and decide to do something else instead… Which brings us back to Integration Time, which apparently could just as accurately be called the Magic of Naps.

It may be a literal nap. Or it may be a figurative nap: a walk, a favorite song, or, of course, three deep breaths. It may be something else entirely; it truly doesn’t matter what it is, only that it works for you. Those subtle, simple shifts are all it takes to gently nudge your self into your newly expanded comfort zone. And if you find yourself in a hypothetical scenario like the one I describe above, know that you’ve been blessed with the opportunity to practice an entire series of small, consistent Integration Moments, gradually feeling more at home in the new space.
Ahhhh….
Mmmmm…

So, I ask you, what do you want? And how will you prepare for the blessing of its arrival?

Why is this happening…to me?

A friend of mine recently had the opportunity to work on a book project. Deeply passionate about the content, she was ecstatic to have been brought on as a consultant–ghost writer hybrid. She dove into the research and filled all of her spare, non-work hours with writing and editing. Finally, after months of effort and a few interim research papers, she triumphantly turned in the final chapter. Expecting her to be over the moon, I was shocked when she called me later that week and her voice was heavy with tears…

She poured out her disappointment: counter to her expectations, the man who hired her had submitted the chapter with only his name on it. He had made no formal acknowledgement of her contribution at all and she was deeply upset. So upset that his actions were causing her to question her desire to do this sort of research, her entire working relationship with this client, and, most distressingly, the value of her contributions. Why would he do this to me!? she despaired.

Committed to holding space for her, I dropped into my breath and listened as calmly and quietly as I could. I wanted to make sure that I heard her and that she knew she was being heard, that I was there to witness her distress and support her through it. But a question kept coming up for me. I pushed it back down, shushing it with a reminder that my role was Listener. Yet it rose to the surface again and again, bubbling up undeniably. So, I decided to pose it. In my most gingerly tone of voice, I asked

Is it possible that rather than doing this to you, he is simply…doing this?

Her: Silence
Voice in my head: Oh, crap, I’ve put my foot in it now and upset her even further
Her: Silence
ViMH: I know better than that! Why didn’t I just keep my mouth shut!?
Her: Silence
ViMH: Be cool, just breathe
Her: (sniffle) What do you mean?
ViMH: Oh thank, god!! Now, tread carefully here
Me: Well, you are clearly upset and I understand why you are upset and disappointed. At the same time, I also wonder whether his actions are truly incompatible with the terms of your agreement… In other words, could he maybe just be acting based on his best understanding of the situation?
Her: Well…

And then we began to discuss the space between them and what might be going on for him. Upon reflection, she realized that he might have a totally different perspective on the situation, one based on a totally different set of (unarticulated) assumptions. As her voice got stronger and stronger, she pointed out that there was a clear opportunity for her to talk with him. So we talked about what it would look like to share her feelings on the situation, articulate her expectations, and ask to receive credit for her work.

And that’s exactly what she did. He was shocked at how upset she was, not having had any inkling that she wanted–much less expected–to be listed as a co-author. He praised her work, thanked her for her candor, and promptly offered her the credit. And followed through. When she called me two days later she was truly triumphant, the proud co-author of her first book chapter!

And that, my friends, is the power of an energy shift. Just feel the difference between the two general versions of the question:

Why is this happening to me? feels like a lament. I can’t say or even think it without at least a hint of wail, and I can feel my shoulders start to sag as my belly tightens. Even as I ask the question, I’m giving up.

Why is this happening? on the other hand, feels like an exploration. I can’t say or think it without at least a hint of upward lilt, and I can feel my belly soften as my inner detective gears up to start sniffing out clues and solving puzzles. It’s energizing!

As much as I’d like to take credit for this wonderful piece of wisdom, I am equally pleased to give it to Don Miguel Ruiz. In The Four Agreements, he teaches:

Don’t take anything personally. Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality.

In other words, drop the “to me.”

Not taking things personally is a powerful practice; really understanding this allows you to transform the energy of any situation. When we drop the “to me,” we create a new space and in that space we empower ourselves to become the co-creators of any dynamic, rather than its victim, and the resolvers of any situation.

So, I ask you, which “to me” will you release today? And how will you explore the space that results?

Who’s running this show…?

It’s not enough that miracles are always coming at us; we must be receptive…we must have an open mind as well as an open heart. The ego would close both. -Marianne Williamson

This week I’m noodling over the difference between having Agency and having an Agenda. As Surrender becomes an increasingly important theme in my writing–and, of course, my Life–I want to understand the balance between surrendering to the flow of the Universe and claiming my agency as co-creator of my experience. I believe that the two are compatible; I’m still exploring the finer points of how…

The best metaphor that I have is dancing. Recently, I had the chance to go salsa dancing for the first time in years and it was glorious. Sweat dripping, hair flying, feet flashing, I felt fantastically alive! Alive to the music and the movement and also the dynamic with my partner. In one view of salsa dancing the fact that he is the designated lead means that my role is simply to keep the beat and respond to his signals, doing what he instructs me to do. In other words, follow. But real dancing is much more of a conversation than that. As the “follower” you’re deciding when to take that extra turn, adding in flair, going freelance for some shines–heck, deciding whether to dance or not!

There’s a similar dynamic in AcroYoga. In the beginning, it is often base leads, flyer follows. But as we get into intermediate and certainly advanced work, it becomes more of a co-creation. If I press here, can you give there? If I need to shift my weight this way, will you go that way? It’s a continuous dialogue and exchange of leads through which you learn each other’s responses, sensitivity, preferences, styles. Both parties must be fully present and neither of us can have our own agenda, it must be a shared one and we have to collaborate to get there.

Life is feeling more and more like that these days. As I dance with Life, experimenting and exploring, I’m learning how it responds to us. Typically, my role is simply to set an intention and then let things play out. Other times, it seems that a bit more agency is required, but I’ve learned that a fixed agenda never serves me well. Allow me to share a story with you…

Back in March, I was scheduled to spend a weekend in DC teaching a group of yoga teacher trainees. The plan was to stay with the director of the program (who is also a friend), but she called at the last minute to let me know that her place would not be available to me. Not only that, she couldn’t put me up in a hotel because the cherry blossom festival had things all booked up. So here I am on Tuesday afternoon, in the middle of a business trip, finding out that I have nowhere to lay my head on Friday… (Hello, frustration!) Her place was unavailable due a complex mix of dogs, live-in dog sitters, and flight schedules, so I spent about an hour texting back and forth with her about how we might make it work. After all, the plan had been to stay with her, and I was determined to do so. A determination buttressed by the fact that the training materials weren’t going to be available either–not a single page of the 40-page handout I prepared had been printed. (By all means, frustration, please settle in for a nice, leisurely visit.) So, I dug-in and I pushed. Because, darn it, something was going to go the way I planned it!

But, ultimately, I accepted to the fact that it just wasn’t going to work. I agreed to stay with one of our students instead. Having decided to dance, I followed the lead I was given by saying yes. I recommitted to my intention to teach the course and have it be a good learning experience for the students, no matter how annoyed I was– I mean, no matter how things unfolded.

And then a series of amazing things happened: not ten minutes after I said yes to the couch (so much less glamorous than saying yes to the dress, I assure you), one of my besties called to chat. We rarely talk during the week, but it was great to hear from him. Especially when he mentioned that he was scheduled to be in DC for a conference soon. My pulse sped up a bit… Yes, you guessed it, his conference was that coming weekend. Of course, I asked him if I could stay with him–actually, I think it was more gleeful announcement that I was going to crash his hotel room, but there’s no need to get too caught up in the details here. Needless to say, I was beyond thankful for this “coincidence.”

So, I was already ahead, having gone from sleeping on a stranger’s couch to spending the weekend in a luxury hotel with one of the people who I love most in the world. And then the Universe really started showing off: shortly after I notified my would-be host of my new lodging plan, she sent me a message about the materials. It turned out that there was a FedEx office in the hotel (of course!) and she had arranged for full-color copies of the materials printed and waiting for me upon arrival. And they were. And it was a wonderful, easeful, fruitful weekend of both teaching and hanging out with my friend.

To review: I went from standing in a place of near total frustration to an experience of solution after solution after solution presenting themselves to me. Solutions that were far more elegant and creative than any of the things I had been pushing to make happen.

This really brought home to me the notion that when I’m focused on a picture of How Things Should Be I’m likely to miss out in the fullest expression of how they can be. So, increasingly these days, I focus on my intention for a situation and how I want to feel. In this case, having committed to teaching the course, I was equally committed to feeling comfortable and physically supported as I did so–an intention that manifested far beyond my imaginings. And I believe that things worked out in such a lovely way precisely because I claimed my agency around the What of my intention and desired feelings while deliberately releasing any agenda for the How and following the Universe’s lead. Having asked for support, I then opened to the miracle by allowing it to unfold.

To be clear, this is different from the idea I was raised with, the idea of handing everything over to a God who will determine our fate. The approach that I’m talking about here involves much more agency than that. It’s like dancing. Or partner acrobatics. I’m talking about setting an intention based on what feels most aligned for me, most consistent with my soul’s purpose–getting crystal clear on that. And then getting out of the way because I trust the Universe’s ability to work things out for the Highest Good of all involved. There’s an element of collaboration, a back-and-forth, a dynamic flow of energy to this approach that always yields something new, something wonderful.

So, I ask you, what solutions and miracles are lining up for you? And how will you open yourself to them?

How will I know?

Yes, that is Whitney Houston’s voice now ringing in your ears. Welcome to my world. For the past few months, Ms Houston has been haunting me–to be clear, it’s more of a cosmic wink than a menace from beyond the veil, but she has been persistent and she definitely has a message for me. A message encapsulated in the immortal words of the hit song: How will I know?

The original song is focused solely on romance, but I’ve been asking the question about all sorts of things: my hometown, my new home, my work, my Work, and, yes, my mate. Wondering, will I actually recognize the answers to my prayers when they come? Will I know the fruits of my intention when they manifest?

I am coming to understand that the answer to the question is two-fold: Yes, and, It doesn’t matter.

The latter somehow manages to simultaneously calm me to the point of near tranquilization and rile me like nails on a chalkboard. Neat trick, huh? It’s calming because in the moments when I get truly quiet and tune in to my deepest Self, I hear a voice full of love and tinged with fond laughter reminding me that It’s all good. That this lifetime is a beautiful cosmic dance–a game even–and everything coming my way is for the Highest Good. So, yes, I can buy the house and it will serve me beautifully. And, yes, I can choose to keep looking and be sure to find something else that will also serve me beautifully.

This paradox of both options being a “yes” is precisely what drives parts of me crazy. The rational, reasonable, linear, protector voice in my head tends to think that this sort of thing is hippie hogwash and pure poppycock. That there is always a Right Answer and that our job is to find it. And then execute it to the best of our ability. And doesn’t understand why we’re wasting time playing when there’s research to be done and experts to be consulted.

You know the voice I’m talking about, right? I adore that part of me and am so appreciative of everything that it has helped me achieve in life, and I am increasingly looking to counter-balance it with other ways of thinking and doing. If you go back and re-read those two paragraphs and focus your awareness on how they affect your energy as you read them, you’ll know why. Go ahead, I’ll wait…

See what I mean! And that brings me to the answer, Yes. Yes, I will know because of how I feel when I contemplate the [insert house, relationship, paint color, etc. here]. Expansion, ease, opening, inviting new experiences and understandings. Feeling energized in my Heart and Spirit. These feelings help me to recognize what I am now deliberately calling the Best Option.

The Best Option is cousin to the right answer; they share some basic DNA but those two degrees of separation make a world of difference. The best option is free from all–well, let’s be honest, most–fear of making the “wrong choice.” Instead, it’s focused on making the choice that feels the best, that is most aligned with my intentions and life journey. And that focus grows from the knowledge that the very essence of Life is the energy of Well-being. Best option thinking recognizes that life is a field of infinite potential and the point is to explore as much of it as we can and one of the best ways to do that is to just get out there and play. Best option thinking is about possibility and the delightful mystery of it all. Best option thinking is about feeling your way through and having fun while you do it.

In the words of Abraham-Hicks:

Make a decision and then make the decision right. Line up your Energy with it. In most cases, it doesn’t really matter what you decide. Just decide. There are endless options that would serve you enormously well, and all or any one of them is better than no decision.

Find an option that feels truly good to you and go with it. Period.

I love it. And I’m living it: I chose a house and I’m going for it! And it’s exciting and fun and, in those moments when I forget to breathe, crazy scary. All at once. And it’s all good.

So, I ask you, what would you choose if you couldn’t choose wrong? And how will you play your way towards that Best Option?

You’re going to break my heart?

God breaks the heart open
again
and again
and again
until it stays open.
– Hazrat Inayat Khan

I fell in love this poem the moment we met. To me it is luminous, beautiful; it brings me to the brink of tears as I exhale deep down in my soul. And yet, even as it moved me, there was an accompanying thrill of fear, a worry about what sort of dramatic events would be necessary to bring about the promised change. It seems like a reasonable concern; I mean, the Universe is not known for doing things halfway and here it is promising to break my heart over and over and over again.

But maybe this breaking of the heart need not be cataclysmic. Perhaps it’s not about dramatic events that rend our lives in two, leaving us forever changed–and marked. What if there’s a softer way to read the verse? Does the metaphysical breaking open of my heart really need to be heartbreaking? It turns out…not so much.

Counterintuitive, I know, given our attachment to the epic Hero’s Journey with all of it’s dramatic milestones. But I’m learning that I can choose the path of joy and ease and alignment rather than being dragged kicking and screaming into the flow–we all can. Even more, I can make the conscious choice to crack my own heart open and invite Life in by saying things like,

you look lovely, even though she’s a stranger, because appreciation is its own form of gratitude

hello, how are you? to the cashier and really meaning it because we both deserve the gift of my attention

yes when a student offers a ride to the airport, even though my instinct is to fend for myself with a taxi

thank you when the shuttle driver insists on carrying my bags off of the bus and then putting them in the trunk for me, even though I am perfectly capable of doing it myself, thank you very much. (Hey, I said I was practicing, not that I have perfected the art of gracefully opening to receive!)

yes to a week immersed in music, even though my fear would hold me back

I’m looking forward to seeing you again, even though it feels like giving you some power over me, because it’s true, and there’s a joy in the simple saying of it and a strength in the honesty

congratulations, I’m proud of you, even when a teensy-tiniest little part of me is a wee bit jealous, because we all benefit from the glow of a brightly shining light

I experienced all of these moments this week, a series of opportunities to open, and open, and then open again. Sometimes the “yeses” came as naturally as breath. Others required more deliberate attention and thought, or maybe it was non-thought as I deliberately handed the reins to my heart. On their own each may seem small, but their cumulative effect has been to generate a momentum of good-feeling that has me feeling…well, like a room without a roof (sorry, couldn’t resist; in fact, didn’t want to).

It is important for me to capture this feeling because it can be surprisingly easy to hold myself apart from these little joys. I think that we all do it, maybe out of fear or maybe because we’re so busy looking for our personal Big Bang that we miss the everyday magic right under our noses. But I’m starting to suspect that the road to sustainable–heck, bearable–change is paved with these little moments. And their cumulative momentum is what carries us through to the next level.

So, I ask you, how is the Universe working on your heart today? And will you meet Love halfway?