On the inside you’re still that child. Under all the layers of life and work, of love and relationships, of broken hearts and blind ambition, you still hold the wonder and innocence that you were born with. When you feel relaxed and safe, when something delights you or captures your attention in a particular way, that child-self comes closer to the surface. It peeks out from behind your grown-up eyes. It shines. Continue reading “On the inside.”
Category: mindfulness
The sacred stir-fry.
Life is like a sacred stir-fry filled with experience and emotion. You reach in with your spoon, take a bite. Sometimes it’s everything you like (love, laughter, and chocolate!). Sometimes it’s everything you don’t (betrayal, disappointment, and eggplant). In one spoonful you might get both bitter and sweet.
You always go back for more. Continue reading “The sacred stir-fry.”
Listen to the deep inside.
I lead a Savor Meditation every week, and it’s awesome. We explore a different theme each time, and the whole practice is about dropping in and noticing how it feels, what it tastes like, where in the body it rests and stirs.
If you’re in San Francisco, you’re welcome to join us. But I know you might not be able to come in person, and I still wanted to share this work with you. So I made this: Continue reading “Listen to the deep inside.”
There’s room for you here.
I’ve been spending time at the Botanical Garden. It is Spring and so things are blooming. Also, the Botanical Garden reminds me of someone I care about very much. Some years ago, before Parkinson’s, we spent an afternoon walking through the garden and he told me all about the plants.
There are some very fascinating plants there: the aptly-called monkey hand plant, all the feathery and colorful protea from South Africa, and the unusual grass tree from Australia. There is the century plant that blooms once every ten years, and then dies. Continue reading “There’s room for you here.”
Moving towards living.
My last fieldnote was about loving the body you have, because it changes a bit every day. Sometimes, it changes a lot all at once.
I just finished reading Waking: A Memoir of Trauma and Transcendence. It is the story of Matthew Sanford. He is a yoga teacher, a husband and father. He is also paralyzed from the chest down. When he was 13, he was in car accident that killed his dad and sister. He was asleep in the back seat of the car and woke up days later in the hospital. His body suffered massive trauma, including damage to his spinal cord. Continue reading “Moving towards living.”
Taste freedom.
We were supposed to meet for dinner, but then I received his text: I have to cancel. I have to wind down the company as our funding got pulled tonight. He is my friend and the company is an extension of his deep belief that there is a better way to do X. He sees this possibility and so for the last four years has poured himself into making it exist in the world.
And now this. A kind of freedom. Continue reading “Taste freedom.”
I have the most amazing life.
This is a game I play. It’s like flexibility training for desire and imagination. It cultivates internal resilience, curiosity, and confidence. It releases anxiety and prevents your inner bully from jumping up and smooshing your ideas. It unleashes the power of curiosity and pleasure, so you can taste pure, open possibility. It’s a little intoxicating.
You need the right friend for this. Here’s how it works: Continue reading “I have the most amazing life.”
Receive compliments with grace.
I was nervous, my heart pounding as I waited in the alcove for my music to start, and when it did I stepped onto the stage and into the light and I danced. It didn’t go quite as I had practiced. Being nervous made me clumsy, and the stage felt smaller than it looked. I got distracted when my earring fell off, and I forgot a step. I improvised until I found my place again. I hoped my mouth wasn’t doing the trembly frowny thing it does when I feel nervous and try to hide it. I’m not very good at hiding my feelings. Continue reading “Receive compliments with grace.”
Allow desire.
Desire is one of your most powerful experiences. There is a heat. You feel it slow burning beneath the surface, or sometimes it overwhelms and threatens to engulf you in flames.
It can be scary. It can show up with friends you don’t want to see. Fear. Anxiety. Vulnerability. Disappointment. Longing. Helplessness.
It can feel exhilarating, and out of control. It carries an edge of danger. Playing with fire, they say. Be careful what you wish for, they say. Continue reading “Allow desire.”
Your attention is valuable.
Your attention might be your most valuable resource. Everybody wants it. Companies pay so much money trying to get it. They create banner ads, commercials, and hand out free samples in the street. People with clip-boards talk to you on the sidewalk, wanting you to sign for a good cause. Flyers for the nearby restaurant are slipped under the gate.
Everybody wants your attention.
Your friends and family. Your lover. Continue reading “Your attention is valuable.”
Kim Nicol 