It was a rare peaceful moment.  All the day’s work was neatly stacked on my desk and in my mind.  The driving was over. Although dinner was in front of me and my daughter and a friend were madly baking in the kitchen, I found myself sitting on my bed, chatting with a friend behind a closed door.

Our conversation veered from decisions and stresses to emotions and desires. Then Jenna said, “I just want to live a life with peace for my family and for me.”  

Yes.  The sentence sunk in and settled deep.

There is so much buzz about happiness right now: choosing it, raising it, hardwiring it; but I’m voting for peace. Peace has a different quality about it.  It’s a bit more weighty.  I imagine grounding in peace, like lying on the expanse of sand at Ocean Beach.  

We continued to toss around the complexity of our lives and it became apparent to both of us that you cannot chase peace.  The very act of pushing your way towards it removes the prize.

The times when we most intensely seek peace is often when there is an underlying change that needs to happen.  The focus of my decade of corporate change management work was always to move people and organizations through a change as fast as possible with minimal disruption.

But the more I focus on personal change, I understand that sitting in the space of disruption is meaningful time spent, as unpeaceful as it feels.  

This week I spoke with author Dr. Susan Plummer about her new book Deep Change.  She outlines a fascinating seven-stage process on the journey of deep personal change. Right smack in the middle of the journey is the shift of The Stilling:

“Where we arrive at the threshold between our known selves and world and what can feel like nothingness, with no new horizon in sight, suspended between two ways of being. In this state we wait, with our imaginations stilled, open to the unknown yet unaware of what is to come in the future.”

I breathed a sigh of relief while reading these words that put shape to a nebulous unsettling space.  Peace percolates from within our place of deep knowing. You can’t race to or push through or chase after it. Connecting to your powerful inner rudder requires stillness.

And then with your compass in hand, peace can mean action: big, bold, uncomfortable, risky action . . . that embraces the change that's been brewing and brings you that freedom known as peace.

We all have it.  That part of our lives or ourselves that we look at . . .  over and over again.  It’s a place of question or discontent.  It’s a place of focus, but not clarity. And often, it’s a place of limitation.

Have you noticed the more intense you are about finding clarity, the more elusive it can become?  So you take a step back.

Summer is a natural time of year to give ourselves a little more space to see things differently. Did you hope for a new angle on an old part of you while you were poolside, or beachside, or lakeside this summer?  Did being in nature help you to feel more expansive?

I always take my daughters to Pennsylvania to be with my family.  I purposefully didn’t bring my laptop, took a break from my blog, and went with the intention to break some cycles and get a fresh perspective.  

Creating distance from our swirling cycles can be the break we need.  But I learned from this summer, that stepping back isn’t enough.  

You know those moments when you are trying to take a picture of what’s in front of you and you can’t fit it in the frame of your camera?  You zoom out, step back, and then surrender to the fact that what you are experiencing can’t be captured.

A few weeks ago my sister and I took my parents to New York City to celebrate their wedding anniversary.  No matter how I tried, I couldn’t capture the immensity of the cityscape, the energy of the lights at Time Square, or the impact of the 9-11 Memorial.  Life in front of me was always more expansive than my lens.

I was thinking on the train ride back about the desire I’ve felt to expand my perspective of my own life.  I was reminded that no matter how much distance we give ourselves.  No matter how many angles we try to create by flipping the situation, there is still a frame we are working within and it gives us limits that become our world. 

On the last day in the Big Apple my daughter showed me the nifty panoramic button on my iPhone just in time to get a shot of the freshly scrubbed Grand Central Station on its 100 year anniversary.  It’s a very cool technique that requires you to be very still and slow as you sweep your camera across the full horizon in front of you.  

I am ready to put down my camera now.  Summer is wrapping up.  It’s a natural time to dig back into life, but I don’t want to become myopic.  Let’s remember to:

• Shift your eyes from the object you are focusing on to see the edges of habit you are operating within.

• Keep stepping back in order to notice when your back hits a wall of limitation.

• Then hit that panoramic button to find a more expansive horizon of possibilities.

• Remember that what life presents to you is more than you can ever capture.

Have you ever had an intense seeking inside of you that you can’t put into words?  A restlessness that makes your mind grasp for answers? Even your body holds anticipation?  Sometimes we know exactly what we are seeking in life . . . a new this or a change in that. However,  I’m talking about a deeper query, one without a clear and focused path.  It feels like more of a wave that you just have to ride.

Last month I found myself "surfing the Mavericks".  It’s been an intense journey of seeking that came unexpectedly and was hard to navigate.  It’s over now.  I am catching my breath and seeing my ride with clarity that wasn’t there for me when just my nose was above the water.

I wonder if you might be riding the same wave.  Are you seeking answers that aren’t ready to take shape?

I asked for help to calm the swell within my mind, body and spirit, calling on my beautiful circle of wisdom.  You know the combination:  doctors, healers, coaches, friends, family, teachers, mentors.  Ultimately the greatest clarity came from the Universe delivering two blessings.

The first blessing came to me while driving to the airport.  I love the belief of animal totems. They bring us messages of what we need and help us connect with our innate beings.   I have always felt a connection to hawks and have many stories of hawks visiting me.  While I was driving, a hawk flew up out of the field carrying a large two-foot snake in its talons. I knew this was a powerful message I needed to receive but I didn’t understand its meaning until I returned from my trip.

I had received an invitation to take the last seat on a plane and fly down to San Diego to hear and meet Ekhart Tolle, Deepak Chopra and Wayne Dyer.  It felt like a high end pilgrimage to hear three modern day Western disciples.  

Ekhart’s words pierced through my seeking, “The need to understand your life is a mental construct. If you are looking for enlightenment like something that will arrive, you will never receive it, because it cannot be grasped. Let go and find a sense of not knowing.  This is your awakening . . .”

I realized my deep seeking has actually been a shedding.  Instead of grasping for something in front of me  I was actually letting go of a part of myself that no longer served a purpose.   And what has emerged is still taking shape. It feels wonderful.

Shedding may feel like a combination of yearning, heaviness, agitation, overwhelm, inspiration, or confusion.  It may be an unexplained push towards change. It may have an undertow of a lack of trust or intuition.  Shedding can penetrate your thoughts, emotions, spirit and physical condition.

Shedding is the work of change. It’s hard work work but holds a different energy. It’s an energy of letting go of a part of yourself versus trying to effort through “self develop”.  If I would have recognized my seeking as shedding from the start,   it would have lightened my journey.

My daughter just came home from school this week with a gift for me she made in ceramics.  “I don’t really like it Mom but you can have it if you want it.”  How did she know?

Are you seeking clarity using your old lens?  Maybe it’s time to shed some of your beliefs or thought patterns.  Maybe it’s time to shed the need for clarity. The skin I shed may not be yours.  The next time you feel uncomfortable in your own skin, try letting it go.

I took my daughter down to City Hall on Valentine's Day for One Billion Rising.  As we rode the crowded Muni I looked at her patient innocent face.  She knew I wanted to dance with a bunch of other women I didn't even know.  She knew she had to come with me.  She knew it was about ending violence against women around the world.  

I felt such gratitude that she didn't know the extent of abuse, violence, and oppression that some girls her age experience here in our own city and throughout every country on this planet.

I danced to add my own energy to the collective movement of women rising all over the globe.  And when it was over, walking back to the Muni, holding hands, she said, "Good job, Mom."

I thanked her for the compliment, but then realized I needed to make sure she understood why it really was a good job.  How could I explain how my dancing reduced violence? 

I tried, "In life there is a lot we see that we want to change. It can feel overwhelming and futile.  But when we join together in a collective voice, we are louder, we are seen, we are heard."  She got it.

Dancing with hundreds of others made me want to take a stand more often to help shift the world.  I want my daughters to learn how to act on their desires for change too. 

On March 8 there will be one more Flash Mob in San Francisco.  If you would like to participate, I am teaching the routine next Thursday night, February 21. It's designed for everyone ~ you don't have to be a dancer.  If you just want to dance on that night, please do!  And if you have a daughter, bring her too!

Blessings,
Amy      

Let my life become ~

The unfolding of me.

A winding path to my inner content.

A daily blessing that I recognize.

An inner wisdom from my own life lessons.

A redefinition of achievement.

A full experience of love.

An unexpected garden of inspiration.

A freedom in knowing myself.

A refined focus on balance.

A constant wave of kindness that carries others.

A contributing part of the greater journey for all.

A beautiful becoming.

Blessings,
Amy

ps. This unexpected vertical garden is on the side of Drew High School in San Francisco.