What takes place here is not ordinary or commonplace unless my preconceptions make it so. What takes place here is extraordinary. Karen Meyer
I was in Whistler last week with a dear friend, taking some deserved time out to rest, rejuvenate and play. With so much work on marketing my business right now, especially for my upcoming spring retreat, Opening to Joy, I needed this pause to relax and wind down.
What a sumptuous stay it was, as I meditated, did yoga, sweat in a eucalyptus steam, wrote, painted and strolled through the winding pedestrian village. I also went cross-country skiing, which I hadn’t done for about 9 years. The last time I skied was on Mount Washington with friends.
As a teenager, I spent many a Sunday gliding along forest trails with my dad and sister in the quaint Laurentian village of St. Sauveur where we had a country house, an hour north of Montreal. How revitalizing it felt, my legs remembering the stride, snowplow and scissor climb, my arms the rhythm of poles digging in and following through.
I also spent some wonderful time catching up with a former colleague who has been living there for a while. Pat and I worked for over 4 years as co-facilitators for an award-winning school-based violence prevention program. From 2002-2006, we spent probably a thousand hours writing, teaching, talking and learning together.
Although we hadn’t seen each other in about 5 years, it seemed like it was just yesterday we were sitting in a circle in a grade 8 or 9 classroom talking about how to make healthy boundaries in relationships or how to assertively state your needs in a conflict.
When it came time to part, it was difficult to say good-bye. I felt so much joy in our reconnection.
As I listened to myself tell Pat about all the things I have been doing, I heard such transformation in the last 6 years. Sometimes I feel so impatient with the process of building my business. When impatience arises, worry and fear are often riding on its heels. I hear thoughts like: “I will not be enough” or “what I have to offer isn’t of value”.
I keep remembering meditation teacher Sylvia Boorstein’s story of finding her mind all worried as she rode the bus in New York City on her way to an event that she was late for. She decided to get off the bus and walk, as the traffic was so bad. As she was running through the streets, she kept hearing the fears, the worry. Finally she saw what was real. “I am a 70 year old woman running in high heels down the street in New York”. She laughed and let go.
I am a 45 year old woman working on my business. I am putting my heart out there, sharing the fruits of years of living, of learning. A deep feeling of joy arises as I acknowledge this. My heart brims with memories of the remarkable adventure I’ve been on, one that I can trace back to the first journal I wrote, in the summer of 1987, or even further, to the first steps I took, the first word I spoke, or the cries that arose as I took my first breath.
All of it has been a labour of love: from the passion and commitment to uncovering and sharing my creative and spiritual understanding with others, to the joy and freedom in pulling myself through the fears and doubts that surface in the process.
It is a journey, this entrepreneurship, what I call heartrepreneurship. It is a long-term commitment, a complex, constantly evolving relationship with myself and others.
In the reception room of the hotel we stayed in, there was a vase of Oriental Lilies on a beautiful distressed-wood coffee table. Their wafting aroma was tantalizing, soothing as I wrote each morning on a handcrafted chair beside the tall wall of windows. So much life here, the flowers and the table underneath, the light and snow and voices of other vacationers, the receptionists serving their needs. So much effort to move from tree to table, from seed to flower, from child to adult, with all the transformations that happen in between.
What extraordinarily joyful transformations are you exploring in your life right now? How can you create some space to be with them in a way that is nurturing to you? Sometimes we need another ear, or heart to help us slow down and more deeply understand where we are in the process. Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org for your free half hour session to learn how I can help you in this time. Or read more about my upcoming weekend retreat Opening to Joy.