by susan | May 8, 2022 | Uncategorized
all he needed was courage, correct? and after convinced he’d been given a healthy dose of courage, he began to act courageously.
l. frank baum, through his character the cowardly lion, drew a picture for us all of both the placebo effect and the importance of our internal dialogue and beliefs.
I think about this daily, this understanding of myself, that I could cower inside my introverted self, or I could pretend I am courageous and thus do things that scare the bejeezus out of me. I’ve been working on this for years–decades actually–and I, like the cowardly lion, have made progress. sometimes acting “as if” actually works.
and at times I fail. at times, fear takes over and I become reactive or recessive.
prajna is a buddhist concept, essentially meaning clear insight, intuition of ultimate truth, pure and unqualified knowledge.
when we can connect with intrinsic truth, in whatever our situation, by digging down, distilling, letting go of our protective devices, peeling off all the layers down to our essence, we practice prajna. and this can tell us where we need to go.
breath, life. essence, peace.
by susan | Apr 20, 2022 | Uncategorized
a couple years ago I had an encounter with an owl. it swooped across my chest as I was cycling one dark, pre-dawn morning, which scared and excited and thrilled me. I’d been in the midst of heartbreak and despair, and the message I took from this experience was, there is more to come. everything will be okay. life will continue to present you with opportunities to expand, to experience awe and wonder.
today I again sit with heartbreak. and twice during the past few days I have seen an owl, perched on a branch of a tree, near that 2019 encounter. while one message could be that there are owls everywhere, I choose to take it as a reminder that life is everywhere, life continues, life will always offer me opportunities to expand, to experience awe and wonder.
and yes, there are dragons.
here be dragons is the english translation of “hic sunt dracones,” a phrase purported to have been written on maps, long ago, to denote uncharted territories–potentially dangerous and filled with monsters, serpents, and unknown evils. one intrepid researcher found not a single ancient map to have those words written upon it, but did find the words upon a globe built in 1510. regardless, the phrase represents all the potential pitfalls out there in the unknown.
I like the idea of dragons in our uncharted, unknown reaches. we know they’re there. what we forget is that we are all, at heart, dragon tamers. we rediscover courage when we remember this piece of who we are.
and then the owls. they are there, too. to remind us that life is filled with the spectacular, the unexpected, the curious. albert einstein is credited with telling us that we may either consider that nothing in life is a miracle, or that everything in life is a miracle.
live the latter.
by susan | Apr 10, 2022 | Uncategorized
not that I’d rather be something else, but being human is hard. damn hard.
yesterday I wrote a bigger-than-expected check for taxes, received word that I did NOT receive a residency I’d applied for, had a client cancel last minute, and broke a tooth eating a carrot.
today has been better.
tomorrow… I have no idea.
where do we find the courage to continue?
I began this post three years ago, march of 2019, an entire life ago. and I pulled it out of my drafts folder last night when my dog peed on my new rug, my electrical outlets in my bedroom stopped working, and I found myself tearful at dinner with friends because they all seem to have better connections with their loved ones than I seem to.
it’s damn hard to be human.
in the past three years I have experienced incredible moments and times and events, felt awe and wonder and gratitude and appreciation. I’ve been gifted with love and support. I’ve received over and over again. I’ve experienced times of belief in both myself, and in my ability to create the fulfilling life I desire. and I’ve also experienced loss, grief, frustration, impotence. anger. sorrow. moments of hopelessness. times when one of my first thoughts of the day is, I can’t wait to put my pajamas back on and go bed tonight.
and yet, here I am.
hear I am. listen.
like most everyone else, I will keep moving. I will listen to myself, to my heart, and make every attempt to follow where it wishes to lead me. it doesn’t always make sense to me, but I continue to believe that one day it will. rachel botsman describes trust as an active, responsible ‘confident engagement with the unknown.’ let me, let us all, learn to truly trust.
signing off, perfectly imperfect human that I am,
and sending all the love in the world your way. may you always feel the hands and hearts of others holding you.
by susan | Feb 27, 2019 | Uncategorized
[the following is a reprint of a 2011 post on my blog, the tao of cycling, titled the great escape. the only changes I would make are in the second line: “five” now becomes “thirteen,” and to add that I now am with a new therapist who is even more streamlined and responsive than those who came before… ]
here’s a not-so-secret secret:
I have been in intensive therapy for the past almost-five years.
I’ve changed therapists a few times, from a rather heavy, stable, predictable gal to someone a little more streamlined and frosty, to my current therapist, a gal named ruby who is sleek and slender, sharp and responsive, understated yet subtly persuasive, and always ready and available for a session.
the best thing about my therapists is that they all–all–work outdoors. none of this sit-on-a-couch stuff. they’re into movement and nature, and they’ve all been extremely tolerant of less-than-perfect conditions.
they don’t mind getting a little wet.
they don’t mind cloudy skies and temperatures in the 40’s.
they don’t even seem to mind those 100 degree days, though I’m tempted to believe they prefer heading up canyons when the air gets that hot.
I’ve been with ruby for over two years now, and have spent so much time with her you’d think I wouldn’t need her anymore. but the thing with this kind of therapy is that it becomes a regular, almost standing, appointment. it’s more like yoga and meditation: daily practices that heal and soothe, center and relieve one of stress and anxiety.
ruby and her predecessors have helped me learn many things, not the least of which is that I am capable of more than I thought I was.
I’ve also learned:
- no matter how long the road before you, the only way to shorten it is to move forward.
- one’s mind will opt out long before one’s body will.
- the only way to get up a hill is to start pedaling, and keep doing so until you reach the top.
- the less baggage you carry, the easier it is to move forward.
- some baggage is necessary for self-care along the way. it’s okay to carry a little. it makes you who you are.
- rewards you earn are more enjoyable than those just given to you.
- we all need an escape at times.
- what hurts for a little while will ultimately make you a stronger person.
- it doesn’t matter whether those rivulets running down your cheek are tears, sweat, or a result of wind-irritated eyes. it’s all good.
- before you can go anywhere, you have to be where you are.
and then there is this:
all the training in the world won’t get you anywhere unless you possess and exercise some courage.
the initial investment in my therapy made me gulp, and changing therapists can be expensive, too. but the daily expenditure is minimal, and mental health is truly priceless.
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