Did you know that if you are patient enough you can pet a bubble bee? I remember being a five-year-old in my grandma’s garden. Holding my breath, I ran my little fingers down the bee’s yellow fur. I knew that it would be only a short, magical moment until it would fly away, leaving nothing behind but pollen and wide-eyed wonder.
In my last newsletter, I made a big pronouncement: I was going to start taking Friday afternoons off. I was freshly home from a vacation and felt renewed by the power of downtime and fresh air. I was planning to fully “walk the talk” and truly invest in self-care.
When you pull on a pair of rubber boots, there’s no trail that you can’t explore, no puddle you can’t splash through. Meander at a river’s edge or at the cusp of a swamp, the muddier the better. Embrace the muck, and reflect back on the trails you made this year. The year is drawing to a close, where do you want to go next?
These days, my mind has been circling a big question — what will I research for my final project of my master’s degree? This is basically the thesis of my program. I’ll spend months delving into whatever question I decide on. The problem is, when it comes to coaching and leadership, I’m curious about too many things.
Dive into a lake and in a single fearless moment, reality changes! There is no turning back. The stark difference from air to water leaves you feeling shocked, invigorated and wildly alive. You are a courageous, resilient creature who is capable of so much more than you know.
I grew up watching beach shows and longing for a carefree life where no matter what was going on, someone might yell, “Surf’s up,” and my friends and I would sprint to the beach and catch some waves.
Bundle into your parka, grab your warmest hat and let’s take a walk through a snowstorm. Embracing the winter’s chilly weather will make you feel alive. This image reminds me of my mom, her rosy face looking at me through the fur of her hood, her eyes smiling. We hold to each other up and head out into the wintery blizzard, ready for anything.
I was heading off on my annual 3-day solo retreat a few weeks ago, and a friend said, “Oh you’re going to manifest the year ahead.” I immediately reacted. “No no” I said, “This is a work retreat.”
There’s something about the moment when we connect with a wild animal. Our eyes meet and our hearts skip a beat. We become aware of our safety but compelled by a deep sense of curiosity. Anything could happen. Time seems to stand still.
Find a large tree and gaze up at its magnificent structure. Imagine the strength of its roots, the elements that it has endured, the history it has witnessed. Close your eyes and focus inward. Consider your strengths, what you have endured and the possibilities that lie ahead. Let this space hold you for a while.