What’s that noise?

Plop…plop……plop.plop……….plop….plop……………….plop plop…..plop…plop…..plop

The dripping pulled me from sleep this morning–the sound of water dripping with maddening irregularity, to be precise. Summoned from sleep, unable to either find the source of the noise or go back to sleep, I lay there…

Often, these pre-dawn hours are a time of peaceful reflection. I review yesterday’s gratitude journal and daydream about what today will bring. 

Sometimes, they’re a time of not-so-peaceful reflection. I review yesterday’s flubs and uncomfortable moments and worry about what today will bring. 

This morning was one of the latter times. 

And as I lay there thoughts about actual flubs (a demo in Acro class that didn’t meet the bar, for example), gradually gave way to worries about potential flubs. To be honest, it probably wasn’t even all that gradual. Within a few minutes, I found myself playing hostess to a full-on troll party.  All of the creeping concerns and second-guessing ghouls came out to play as I fretted about everything from my work to my relationships to my play. I mean, it was like a troll flash mob was having a disco inferno in here! (They are like a flash mob, aren’t they? You’re cruising along, all is well. Then one appears and before you can even say, Hey, I wonder what that guy is doing…? there are dozens of them all dancing in synchronized frenzy)

Once I realized what was happening, three things occurred in rapid succession:

1. I called Halt on the procession of thoughts

2. I began to question them, discovering that some of them had roots in actual events.

3. I began to question how to deal with a destructive troll thought that has some, albeit distant, relationship to consensual reality. 

In other words, I lay there wondering: how do I know when my Spirit is using a quiet moment to bring something to my attention vs when the trolls are taking advantage of a quiet moment to make some trouble.  After all, as Liz Gilbert writes in her brilliant new book, Big Magic:

Possessing a creative mind…is something like having a border collie for a pet. It needs to work, or else it will cause you outrageous amounts of trouble. Give your mind a job to do, or else it will find a job to do, and you might not like the job it events (eating the couch, digging a hole through the living room floor, biting the mailman, etc)

 Word. So, was my Heart speaking to me or was my Mind just eating the couch?

And, how can I know?

The answer, when it came, was so perfect and so blindingly obvious that it had to be right: my body will tell me. 

My body will tell me.

I know this. You know this. We just sometimes need reminding. We just sometimes need to drag our attention away from the fascinating spectacle of the troll flash mob and check in. 

When I checked in, I found my body on-edge: shoulders high and curved forward, heart rate accelerated, and face screwed into a frown. In short, none of the spaciousness that I have learned to associate with true wisdom and my inner compass. 

And, here’s how I know that the answer was right: as soon as I became present to the physical expression of the thoughts, the trolls vanished. Just, poof! As quickly as they had all appeared, the thoughts dematerialized. Let me repeat that: They didn’t just scatter, they dematerialized. 

And here’s how I know for sure, for sure that the answer is right: A few moments later, I realized that my mind had wandered into another area (I’ve gotta get a better leash for this border collie!) and was sniffing around a friendship that seems to be ending. I am in the roll of “end-ee” and, what’s more, not fully clued in to what’s going on in the ender’s mind. I would much prefer to know what is going on and I would much prefer to keep the connection, so this was prime digging-a-hole-in-the-living-room-floor territory. But, instead, I found myself acknowledging that my concern is reasonable, there is the possibility of imminent loss, and that I’m just going to have to see how things play out. 
 I checked in with my body, and all I felt was Ahhhh… Wide open space in my chest, the spaciousness of resting in my heart. 

The contrast was so palpable, the experience so dramatic, that I literally jumped out of bed to write about it because I’m so excited to share this latest lesson! (Okay, it’s probably more of a reminder than a fresh lesson, but you know what I mean)

So, I ask you, what are you thinking right now? And are you willing to let your body’s wisdom help you navigate those thoughts?

All of the things…?

Two of my favorite creators released offerings last month. When they were first announced, I felt like I had won the literary lottery: books from Liz Gilbert and Brene Brown within two weeks of each other? Winning! The positive anticipation began…

Finally they arrived, encased in their brown cardboard cocoons. 

And I opened them to that new book smell and the crackle of a book’s first back bend, softening its spine to release the treasures within (yes, I truly do love reading this much).

And I turned to lay them on my bedside table, excited to spend the next several mornings with them.

And then I saw that they would bring the total number of books waiting in my queue to eight.

<insert record scratch sound here>

And in that moment, a literal turn of the head and blink of the eye, my literary bounty became a first world burden. Books that I had eagerly awaited were transformed into two more line items on my To-do list. And in the weeks since their arrival, as they remain unread, guilt has started to creep in. It’s subtle, more misty haze than fog, but I’m definitely in the “I should be reading those” thought zone. And feeling the hitch that those thoughts create in my energy. 

How does this happen?  Because it’s not just new books, I’ve experienced a similar phenomenon with activities, meals, conversations, even relationships. It’s some sort of reverse alchemy, in which the gold of an anticipated experience is, over time, transmogrified into a lump of lead…

In my case, I believe there are two culprits: scarcity thinking and absence. 

Scarcity thinking’s effect here is to convince me that I don’t have enough time to do all of the things that I truly want to do– to read all of the beautiful books or see all of the breathtaking places or do the amazing things. It sucks me into the illusion of not-enough and the tyranny of the Or. 

And, in a way, scarcity thinking is accurate. There is a very good chance that I will not get to read every good book written since the invention of the printing press. There is a decent chance that I will not get to both witness the great migrations across the Serengeti Plains and dive the Great Barrier Reef in this lifetime. Heck, there’s a chance that I won’t even get to both eat lunch and run my errands today!  I will be making choices between these options; yes, I’ll look for as many Ands as I can find, but odds are that I’ll be faced with a few Ors. 

Which would actually be okay, if not for Absence. 
The thing about Ors is that although they are often tyrannical, they are not inherently so. What often turns an Or and the resulting trade-off into a constraint is our insistence on focusing on the foregone option. When our attention and energy are focused on what we’re not doing, what we gave up, what we’re missing out on, then we are Absent to what we actually are doing, having, and seeng. It is the complete opposite of Presence and, in a masterful sleight of hand, it doubles our losses. Not only do you not have what you gave up, you now don’t even really have the option that you kept because you missed the whole darn thing. Whether we’re talking about guiltily racing through one book to get to the seven others in the stack or spending your time in Belize yearning for the brisk, refreshing airs of Zermatt (talk about your First World Problems!) or sitting at the recital wondering what’s happening at the meeting, the dynamic is the same. It robs us of our experiences, our moments, our lives. 

The clear antidote here is Presence. And a commitment to practicing it in every moment. And to laughing it off when we forget to be present just as often as we remember. 

And, in the specific case of my literary FOMO, a bit of fun with words. I’ve resurrected a term I heard once: The Ante-Library. Like an anteroom specifically for books, it is much a potential space as it is the physical stack of books on my nightstand. My Ante-Library is a tower of possibility and discovery. It’s an entrance, a portal to a magical land where I get to unleash my curiosity and let it browse to its heart’s content, sampling here and there, collecting interesting tidbits and life-changers alike at my own pace and in my own (perfect) time. 
So, I ask you, where are you letting an Or lull you into Absence today? And what will you do to re-establish your Presence?

When’s it my turn?

Everyone is good this year

Oh wow, that was truly awesome!

What a great song

Ooh, I like what she did there

Nice riff!

What if last year was just a fluke?

Oh man, that was really good…

Will I be able to do as well as she did?

What if I forget my lyrics?

What if I can’t follow along on the improvs?

Wow, she’s much better than me…

Welcome to my Mind. 

It’s Day 1 of my second annual (and ever!) singing workshop, and I’m toggling back and forth between enjoyment + appreciation and comparison + fretting. 

One moment I’m swept up in a fantastic performance.

The next, I’m fending off a creeping dread that I’m not anywhere near as good–and everyone will know it

It’s a potent cocktail of (quantities approximate):

3 parts comparison 

1 part scarcity

1 part perfectionism

mix well, garnish with a fresh sprig of self-doubt 

And yet I’m not drunk. Not even politely buzzed. Quite the contrary, I’m clear-eyed and sober, watching fascinated as this inner dialogue unfolds across the day. The thoughts are like intermittent clouds, occasionally enough to obscure the bright sky of mind–all but one corner of it. And that corner is the part of me who is able to Witness and Breathe. And while I’m nowhere near proud to be having such petty thoughts, it’s amazing to realize that I’m having them, rather than them having me. 

I’m pretty sure that I have Tara Brach to thank for the experience. Her book Radical Acceptance has taken my experience of mindfulness not just to a new level, but also in a new direction. Inspired by her teachings, I deliberately choose to accept the thoughts. Rather than brand them small and petty (though they so clearly were!) and try to banish them from my consciousness, I experience them:

Thought… Oh, how interesting, I’m comparing myself to her. That makes my belly churn. {breath}

Thought… Oh, I see, now I’m measuring how much of the teacher’s attention will be left for me. That tightens my throat. {breath}

Thought… Hmm, now I seem to be thinking this is a competition. That sits like a lump in my chest. {breath}

Thought… And now I’m inventing disaster performance scenarios. That speeds up my heart and I feel antsy. {breath}

Connecting each thought to the associated physical sensation was incredibly powerful. It allowed me to stay grounded and to, in a way, hold space for myself. It also kept my attention from getting sucked into thought loops. I simply acknowledged each thought as a visitor to my inner landscape and sat with it. Even, as Tara suggests, inviting them to share a cup of tea. After all, they are aspects of me and are worthy of the same compassion that I give to the more obviously lovable parts of my Self. Some stayed longer than others, but none of them really got any traction. Without additional mental energy to feed them, they just kind of hung out, milling around aimlessly. Once it became clear that there wasn’t going to be much else going on, one by one they drifted away like people leaving a party that never quite got started…

I’m convinced that my choice to accept rather than fight was the key to this whole experience. And by the time it was my turn to sing in front of the group–last in the day, so I had plenty of time to practice both comparison and radical acceptance!–I was just excited to sing. Yes, I was a bit nervous to do so in front of seven strangers, but mostly just excited to be in the music. And I wound up having so much fun! I sang a challenging song, one towards the top of what I think of as my comfortable range, then played, riffing and improving with our instructor. Sometimes it came out ugly. And that was perfect. Sometimes it came out sweet. And that was perfect. Still other times, it came out two octaves higher than I thought I would ever, ever sing. And that too was perfect. It was all perfect because it was all suffused with the sheer joy of doing it. And made that much sweeter by the inner journey I took on the way there. 

So, I ask you, where are you resisting yourself today? And how will you use your mindfulness skills to open the doors to the healing magic of fuller self-acceptance?

Aren’t you going to eat that?

Pickles.
Bread and butter pickles to be precise.
Yuck! I hate them.
And yet here they are, despoiling my beautiful pasture-raised burger.
They must go. I will find and eliminate All Traces of Pickle.
And then I caught J, my lunch companion, looking at me with raised eyebrows:

Taste with your mouth, not your mind

he reminded, going on to point out that Chef had chosen to dress my burger with them for a reason.

So, I called off the search and put the already quarantined green disks back on my sandwich. Grudgingly, but I did it.
And took a bite.
Hmmmm
And then another bite
Mmmmm… you know, the sharp acidity of the pickle is actually a fantastic contrast to the richness of the meat and the cheese.

Oh…? J responded, unable to purge his tone of that final hint of smugness.

It wasn’t the first time that we’d done this dance and probably won’t be the last. My plate has recently been graced with such questionable items as:
runny egg yolks (you already know how I feel about those)
potato salad with celery and jalapeño (to crunchy and too spicy, respectively)
caper-laden carpaccio (I’m allergic and…ewww)
Every time my reflexive responses was to push the plate away with a barely polite No, thank you.
And every time, I was reminded to Taste with my mouth, not my mind.
And every time, I put my biases aside and grudgingly agreed to just one bite.
And every time, that first tentative bite has given way to enthusiastic (and often not very ladylike) follow-up bites as I’ve gone all Austin Powers and ordered the dish in question to “Get in my belly!”

It has become such a common occurrence that the words have become something of a dinner table mantra for me. And the more I explicitly approach my food this way, the more I have been reminded to approach everything this way. It’s a great reminder to be with my experience at it is–as it actually is in this moment–rather than how it has been in the past or how I expect it to be.

A meeting with a prickly colleague becomes a chance to collaborate on an innovative new session
An old familiar, beginner’s acrobatics move becomes an opportunity to calibrate with my partner and refine my teaching
Coffee with my sister becomes a doorway to move beyond superficial girl talk and truly check in with her
And, even, conversation with a once-close friend becomes a chance to gracefully let go

I still forget every once in a while. And there are times when I will consciously choose to generalize–after all, I would never get my errands done if I treated my car and the traffic signals as brand new experiences every time I encountered them. But, I’ve found that most experiences, certainly those that involve others, benefit from this intention. Remembering to experience each one in the Now rather than in the mental past-tense has infused my days with even more authenticity and richness.

But I must confess that the sweetest moment came last weekend when I offered J a sip of my green smoothie and he drew back as if I had offered snake venom. Taste with your mouth, I urged, not even bothering to hide my delight as I threw his words back at him.
And, grudgingly, he took a sip
Hmmmm
And then another sip
Mmmmm…pineapple? and ginger, right? That’s pretty good.

So, I ask you, what are you tasting with your mind today? And how will it taste with your mouth?

Knock, knock! Who’s there?

Quantum theory applies to subatomic particles, not to people. But people are actually vast universes of subatomic particles, and sometimes a shift in perspective makes the particles do a different dance, leap into a new reality. That’s why viewpoint is everything. -Billy Fingers (via Annie Kagan)

Spoiler Alert: I’m in Metaphysical Movie Credit mode today. So, if you haven’t seen the movie Enough Said yet, you’re going to want to put in some quality RedBox time before reading any further. Go ahead, the rest of us will still be here when you get back…

I really enjoyed the movie, but not necessarily for the reasons that I expected. It started out as the tenderly awkward love story that I thought it would be, with the two lead characters making cautiously determined efforts to connect. And then it quickly turned into a lesson in the power of focusing your attention.

Many of the typical rom-com tropes were on display: the meet-cute, the initial lack of attraction, the vaguely uncomfortable first date. Although familiar, these elements were all infused with a sweet earnestness as the two characters groped their way towards true connection. But, of course, every Hollywood meet-cute has a complication lurking in its shadows.

In this case, it’s a chance meeting between Eva (the female lead) and a woman who turns out to be Albert’s (the male lead) ex-wife. What then unfolds is a fascinating triangle in which Eva finds herself drawn into a friendship with the ex-wife even as she pursues a relationship with him. Although she knows it’s wrong–or, at the very least, weird– she is irresistibly drawn to the opportunity to get the inside scoop on this man, and from the ultimate insider, no less!

The catch is that the ex-wife is thoroughly jaded on Albert and so every “insight” that she offers highlights one of his flaws: his annoying way of eating guacamole, his excess weight, even his regrettable taste in home decor. And as Eva spends more time with the ex-wife, she gradually loses sight of all the beauty that she initially saw in him and becomes increasingly, painfully critical of him. At one point he even calls her on it, saying something like, “I feel like I just spent the evening with my ex-wife… and it didn’t feel good.” And the more time Eva spends with the ex-wife, absorbing her perspective, the rockier her relationship with Albert becomes.

I won’t spoil the movie completely by giving away the ending just in case some of you read ahead without stopping to watch it first, but suffice it to say that things get much, much worse before they get better. And each step along the way reinforces the wisdom that whatever we focus on, we will get more of–be it crappy home decor or sweet generosity. Guaranteed.

The traditional scientific explanation for this experience is Confirmation Bias, the phenomenon in which our mind establishes a particular belief or set of parameters (e.g. Albert is lovely, or Albert is obnoxious) and then gets busy seeking out evidence to support the belief, and ignoring anything that contradicts or challenges it. The New Age explanation is that this is the universal Law of Attraction at work, the phenomenon in which the Universe responds to our vibration, our point of focus by yielding to us things that match it. Whichever explanation you prefer (for the record, I’m rather fond of a world in which they peacefully coexist), you can very quickly start to see why this matters.

Because the truth is that Albert is both the kind, generous, thoughtful man who Eva initially fell for and the unmoored, overweight schlub that his ex-wife sees. Heck, it’s not just Albert. We are, all of us, both our brightest and shiniest selves and our most embarrassing, shadow selves. Each of us is a vast universe full of possibilities. And we get to choose how we experience each other based on what aspects we focus on–both when we look at ourselves as well as when we gaze upon others. We can look in the mirror and focus on the size of our pores (when did pores get so big, by the way!?) and that one piece of hair that just refuses to lay right or we can focus on the sparkle in our eyes and the warmth in our smile. We can look at our mate and focus on the size of his pores and the annoying way he chews gum or we can focus on the way he lights up when he laughs and the warmth of his hugs.

I’ll give you three guesses which perspective feels better.

I’ll give you one guess which perspective I recommend.

I recommend it because I know from experience that it works. It works at work, it works at the grocery store, and, perhaps most powerfully, it works at home. We really can choose to focus on what we love about the people we love. And the best part is that we then see them as even more lovable and so we get to love them even more!

So, I ask you, who will you look at through the eyes of love today? And will you let yourself truly experience a new reality of them?

How’s my breathing?

Inhale, Exhale
Inhale, Exhale
Inhale, Exhale

Three breaths, that’s all it takes. I didn’t come up with the idea, of course, but I have made it my own. It all started a few months ago when I had been feeling swept up in the pace of my days. My morning routine was in a nice groove, but that early morning calm tended to wane as one thing blended into the next. You know how it is: meeting to conference call to meeting to conference call to dinner to catching up with friends to reviewing the day’s news as reported on Facebook and the Colbert Report to bed.

So, I decided to start breathing. Well, I was already breathing, so I guess it was more like deciding to start Breathing, exploring new ways to apply what I have learned on my mat. I committed to pausing to take three breaths at every transition point in my day: getting into the car, sitting down to eat, landing in a new city, finishing a phone call. Each and every time, I stopped. And took three conscious breaths.

No surprisingly, it works. It works more consistently and efficiently than those scavenger robots in The Matrix. Resistance really is futile, because nothing can stand up to the power of the Now. Of course, that doesn’t stop me from trying…

Breath 1 usually finds part of me rolling her eyes: this again? There’s so much to do and I was on such a roll, whose idea was it to just sit here? Ok, fine, I’ll just do one deep breath to keep the hippies happy and then get back to my day.
Breath 2 is where the magic happens. If I can make it to the midpoint of that second breath, things start to shift. In that space between inhale and exhale, my shoulders drift down and my whole face softens.
Breath 3 is where the momentum happens. It inevitably leads to me wanting to stay and settle in to breaths 4 and 5. Once that forward-moving, yang style energy gives way to something yin, quieter and more centered, the calm is undeniable. And it feels good. I feel my energy draw back in, I feel myself reconnected to my center, to my ability to be present.

It feels so good that I’ve also started using the three breaths as an integration tool– a way of savoring the full impact of a juicy experience. After coming down from my first extended hold in reverse hand-to-hand, for example, or after collecting an uncountable number of the sweetest, most lovingest hugs at the festival last weekend. In those moments when I’m tempted to withdraw, not because my experience is displeasing, but because life is so very pleasing, so indescribably sweet that I almost can’t bear it. In those moments, the magic of the three breaths is just as powerful–drawing me into the Now, into the full richness of my experience, into an expanded capacity for joy and delight.

In both scenarios I emerge refreshed, my perspective and energy renewed by consciously reconnecting with my Self and my Source, the infinite reality at the heart of it all. And I’m able to experience that early-morning stillness in every part of my day.

So, I ask you, how’s your breathing? And how will you let it deepen your experiences today?

Oh, wow, did you feel that?

For small creatures such as we, the vastness is bearable only through love
-Carl Sagan

Last night, I happened to glance up. And what I saw took my breath away: the sky was a perfect inky blue, equal parts clear and dark. I had to just stop…and take a breath…and say thank you.

Thank you for beauty. Thank you for perspective. Thank you for moments like these and an ever-growing ability to experience them. Thank you for the constellation of my family and friends, each a twinkling light stretching out across the vastness. And the understanding that the vastness itself is Love, embracing me as it’s center even as it showed me my cosmic (in?)significance.

Yeah, it was one of those moments.

It left me feeling soothed, as if I’d had a juicy hug–you know, the kind where the person holds you like they really mean it, breathing through the moment when social convention says you should separate to the sweetness of genuine connection on the other side. Yeah, that kind of hug. That kind of love.

The kind of love that just is. That is always there. That is always available in the moment when we remember to pause and notice. That sustains us. That blesses us all.

I wish you all could have been with me on that sidewalk. But, of course, you didn’t need to be… wherever you are, right now as you read this, take a moment to notice: how is Love flowing to you? And how can you more fully experience the vastness?

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?