STUCK
Over a month ago, my mentor Freedom invited me to begin each morning with a possibilities practice. She suggested that I start my day by setting aside time to write out a list of possibilities. For weeks, I resisted. I should share that, as a rule, I am a "good student": compliant, easily motivated, task-oriented. So, this "non-compliance" was interesting to me as I observed myself.
As I prepared our family for vacation; I had many added responsibilities in addition to my typical ones, so my "non-compliance" wasn't readily apparent to me until we arrived and settled into our vacation. Stepping outside of my normal routine, I began to notice my inaction and my feelings of dissatisfaction. The feeling was not new to me--I had experienced it before in my life--one of slight dissatisfaction. What made it stand out to me was that it directly contrasted to the beauty, freedom, and opportunity of being in the warm sun, on the ocean shore. It took a morning walk on the beach and a sighting of a loon stuck in the sand at the shoreline to finally register that I, like the loon, was feeling stuck. Taking a vacation merely changed my location--unless I made an internal shift, I was choosing to bring my old stuck self with me.
Sometimes when I'm feeling stuck, I can "unstick" myself. And part of blossoming into an expanded version of myself means that I am able to recognize when I need help. A session with my mentor helped free my energy. It began with the excavator that floated by on a barge and continued to loosen things up for me as we placed different people and events into a constellation. Energies shifted during that hour. The next day, I began a new practice that combined the free-writing possibilities exercise with breathing, physical activity, and intuitive painting. In hindsight, I realize that feeling stuck and dissatisfied was a good indicator of my own personal growth:.
I am no longer satisfied with being content. I want to explore new ideas, new vacation spots, new business ideas, new possibilities. Instead of having a single goal as a final destination, I am allowing myself to dream. . .
Thus began my Painting Possibility practice. On vacation, it was easy. I arose most mornings and slipped out of the house and onto my rented beach cruiser bicycle. I biked along the shoreline until I was pleasantly warm (you've gotta' love that compact, flat, Florida sand). Then I set the kick stand and pulled my pencil, watercolors, Aquash brush and journal from the basket. I wrote possibilities without stopping until I filled the page. Then I paused, listened to my intuition and set color to the page directly on top of the writing. Some days, I forewent the bike ride--it was too foggy or I was experiencing vertigo and the movement was too much. But, each day, without fail, I practiced painting possibility.
Things shifted. I became inspired, wanted to share the simple practice with others. I purchased a website, began to post on my FaceBook page. As I physically connected with the idea of possibility, I was energized and motivated from within to create something new. Then, vacation ended. We began our trip homeward-- spent 8 hours delayed in the Jacksonville Airport because of weather back in Boston. Even there, I noticed the shift. I actually enjoyed a large part of the delay--there was a piano player and an open floor and I danced to my heart's content as our boys played on the seats next to me. Despite being physically stuck somewhere, I didn't feel stagnant or limited.
After an unanticipated overnight off-island, we arrived home on Martha's Vineyard. Embracing a self-care practice at home that was begun on vacation felt potentially challenging. Everyday routines and obligations inserted themselves into hours that were full of freedom when I was on vacation. Writing and painting to the sound of the waves in my ears and the feel of the sand between my toes felt more natural than sitting at the dining room table amongst the remnants of my kids’ breakfasts, seeing the suitcases that had yet to be unpacked.
As the blank page stared up at me, I took a breath and began to question myself: Is it actually easier to write on vacation? What if I embraced a different possibility? Inspired by my own curiosity and the touchstone of possibility, my energy shifted and the words flowed:
I have enough time.
I have enough energy.
I have enough friends.
I have enough grace.
I have enough patience.
I have enough strength.
I have enough knowledge.
I have enough health.
I have enough know-how.
I have enough sex.
I have enough love.
I have enough power.
I have enough talent.
I have enough will power.
I have enough sleep.
I have enough clothing.
I have enough dreams.
I have enough rest.
I have enough sunshine.
I have enough beach.
I have enough tears.
I have enough rain.
I have enough winter.
I have enough summer.
I have enough spring.
I have enough fall.
I have enough clean.
I have enough organization.
I have enough art.
I have enough creativity.
I have enough clarity.
I have enough brilliance.
I have enough family.
I have enough exercise.
I have enough clients.
I have enough acceptance.
I have enough photos.
I have enough heart.
I have enough emotion.
I have enough balance.
I have enough nature.
I have enough wind.
I have enough earth.
I have enough fire.
I have enough water.
I have enough everything.
I have enough.
When I held in my being the possibility that I have enough, it was only a small step to embrace the vision I AM ENOUGH.
I paused for breath, allowing my own presence. The fiery paint colors chose themselves as I painted with broad, confident strokes outward from the center. Then, taking a final step deep within my center, I discovered the simple, yet profound truth:
I AM.
What if it is enough simply TO BE?
What is possible for you?