Sunday, May 13, 2007

reconnection "If I have painted it well, you will sense that the ocean is a magical place for me. One that without effort or energy creates calm and an over-riding experience of loving-kindness. The problem is I don’t live by the ocean. I live about twenty-five minutes up the Kennebec River in Bath, Maine. It is beautiful here; there is tidal water out the back door and it is not the same. Sometimes I am in Chicago, Newark or New York, long distances from my instant tranquility machine. In those moments, I have learned that I must be able to recreate the ingredients of this experience by the ocean in order to be as focused and useful as possible in the world." This is a snippet from Bill Cummings in his monthly newsletter. While I'm looking out the window just now from my cubicle at my day job, I yearn for the magic of the ocean, or the mountains right about now, too. But a jaunt to that kind of transformational setting just ain't gonna happen today, or anytime soon. So how do I recreate that inspired feeling without hopping on a plane? I look for interactions with people who are likely to "play" with me, either in person or via email. I pull out any inspirational tapes or cds that I haven't listened to for awhile. Whatever metaphysical concept I've been internalizing lately will hit me as new material, even though I might have listened to it 35 times when I first got it. At lunch, I go for a walk in a park about a mile from where I work - I can almost not hear the traffic. Or I utilize the uninhabited floor of our office building and do laps there when it's not conducive to go outside....
safe harbor Some days just suck. Some days it appears that there are no options. Some days the pain is so thick that you aren't able to see anything else. Some days you think you're losing your mind. Some days it feels like you're driving along and all of a sudden there it is, another cloudburst, that sudden torrential rain that hits every once in awhile. And no matter how high you set your wipers, they can't keep up with the pace of the onslaught to your windshield. It just keeps coming, you're blinded, you panic, and you wonder how long this torture will last. Usually it shows up near a bump in the road of a relationship. Or there's always the detour sign of a health issue - that's a good one, isn't it? Or the street that's closed for construction and the businesses on that street fail, costing you a job. Stuff happens, you react like you always have and, you notice, you FEEL that way, too. Until one day the downpour arrives yet again, and while you are casting about for something, anything, to make this pain go away, you discover from the corner of your eye that the source of the downpour isn't a terrestrial one - it's actually coming from the inside. You pull over, depleted and not really able to comprehend. The storm has an internal source? Is this a factory installation, or an after-market deal? So. It would appear that your frantic efforts up to this point to dispel the tempest with mechanics and sheer will have obviously been futile. Stunned by what you witnessed, your focus momentarily distracted, the storm in all its wiley timing begins to lift, and you pull slowly back onto the highway. This magical squall will appear again, and again,...

Deb Schanilec

Connected and Committed relationship transformation strategist.

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