Browsing Tag

fear

Alignment, Costa Rica

My Why

February 17, 2015

My wish is that others will learn to stop before I did, to take into account the limitations of their physical bodies and to take the time to listen to the yearnings of their soul.

It is in the taking care of ourselves we learn the ability to take care of others.” – Celia Lashlie, who died yesterday. 

 

meghan with wingsWhen we tell people that we are about to move to Costa Rica, the question is almost always, “What are you going to DO?”

No one ever asks us why.

Nearly everyone has gone straight to the fears of not-enough. They are practical. How are we going to pay our bills? How are we going to make money? How will we fill our days? How are we going to survive?

But no one ever asks us why we are moving.

No one ever questions the need to move away. No one ever wonders why on earth we would leave a really good job and move to a foreign country. No one ever asks us what the real reasons are for the move.

Because I think that deep down, everyone already thinks they know.

They think we are moving because this life – this seemingly perfect life, isn’t perfect. They think we are moving because we don’t want to spend all year working our asses off just so that we can spend two weeks in the sun getting over it. They think we are moving because we are running away from something; because we think that somehow life will be better somewhere else. They think we are moving because it’s sunny where we are going to live.

And in some ways they are right. But that’s not the whole story. That is only part of our why.

We are moving because we have had huge life lessons in not waiting until you are retired to live. We are moving because we know to our souls that life is precious and that taking care of ourselves has to be our highest priority. We are moving because if we are not happy in this seemingly idyllic life, then it is we that are the problem. If we are the problem, then no job, no car, no vacation, and no stuff can fill that space in our hearts. We are moving because when we made the decision to move, the holy yes that happened at that moment filled us with such peace, we couldn’t not listen.

We are moving because we know that our time and our health and our lives are the most precious things we have; so we are going to build a life that supports, celebrates and honours that.

So what are we going to do? We are going to listen to the messages telling us to move. We are going to get on with living our lives. We are going to create a life from scratch that honours our lives instead of our stuff. We know it’s not going to be easy, that we are incredibly lucky to be able to make this choice, and that anything could happen. But we also know that life is precious and we want to get everything we can out of this time around. So we are going to get on a plane and see where the next holy yes takes us.

We have no other choice.

xo

 “If we are identified with being married to a certain person, with a job, with our very body and life – that’s how deep it goes – there’s not any real peace or freedom because something in us knows that it’s all very fragile.  So we are always on some level kind-of tensing against what’s around the corner.” – Tara Brach

 

 

Costa Rica, Leap and the net will appear, The Move

On Stuff

January 13, 2015

Those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything. – George Bernard Shaw

 

IMG_2616Yesterday my husband found me sitting on the floor of our office debating the future of a pile of alphabet magnets. A pile of alphabet magnets that I had not seen in 6 years. A pile of alphabet magnets I had forgotten I had.

For one brief moment of madness, I was debating packing them.

Two contradictory things happen when you commit to getting rid of almost everything and starting again: you come face-to-face with your former selves and you have to pack for a self you don’t know yet.

As I pack these boxes, it is my former self that I am discarding. The things that in other circumstances I might have kept for another 10, 20, 30 years, are now going into charity boxes or finding new homes via ebay. And with every pass through a room or across a shelf, something else feels less important. Something that a month ago was definitely coming, goes into a pile, not making the cut-off criteria of: do I love it enough to ship it? Does it match who I want to be?

I won’t be unpacking these boxes. My future self will be. The self that opens these boxes will be one that is no longer wrapped up in the tying up of a great big job. She will have nearly a year of living without this stuff under her belt. She will have committed to a place. Will my future self be grateful for the things collected in her previous life? Will she even recognise them? Or will she wonder what the hell I was thinking putting these things in a box and shipping them across the world?

And how do I make those choices for her?

The ironic thing is that we thought we had made a decision to change our lives. What we have found is that there is no single decision that changes your life. A change like this – just like real life – is made up of thousands of small, seemingly insignificant decisions. And in the end, you can only get there by making one decision at a time, doing the best you can, and knowing your future self will understand.

At least I hope she will.

Because the alphabet magnets aren’t coming.

xo

 


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Do you want to be part of a warm and open-hearted community of women, gathered around a virtual hearth fire? Would you like to join those women for discussion about spirituality, questions, self-care and magic?

Do you crave open, honest conversation about spirituality?

Then we would love it if you would join Sas Petherick and I for Heart and Hearth.

Costa Rica, Leap and the net will appear, Mango Season, The Seeker

All in the Waiting

December 24, 2014

I said to my soul, be still and wait without hope, for hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love, for love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith, but the faith and the love are all in the waiting. Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought: so the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing – T.S. Eliot

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Christmas Eve.

One Christmas Eve, many years ago, I sat in church listening to my Dad talk about waiting. About anticipation. I remember him quoting a passage from the bible that talked about how – when all of the things were happening around her – Mary pondered them in her heart.

I’ve never forgotten that image.

Waiting.

When I wished my husband good morning this morning we talked about how we both always really loved Christmas Eve, because it was all still to come. When you were a kid on Christmas Eve, Christmas was still a big magical unknown. Everything twinkled Christmas Eve. The magic was in counting down the hours.

We are very much in a waiting, preparing, unknown phase of our journey. We are just past eleven weeks until we leave. Part of my fatigue and stress right now is that when people ask us what we are going to be doing, I have nothing normal to tell them. Rather than have another conversation that involves me justifying our leap, or helping them be less afraid, I have taken to outright lying or embellishing the truth. For me, that is a sure route to chest pains.

The truth is: we don’t know what we are doing. We have ideas and hopes and a place to stay for seven months, but other than that we are going on… what? Faith? That is a surprisingly difficult thing for people to hear.

Faith.

We are going to go and see. We are going to see if we really want to be there before we commit, and then we are going to be open to the opportunities that present themselves. We’re deliberately not making firm plans, because we both believe that what we can dream is too small for ourselves.

And so tonight as I join people all over the world in Christmas Eve anticipation, I will also be lighting a candle and remembering Mary, who waited in much more discomfort than everyone else and pondered it all in her heart.

And starting tomorrow, I will begin a practice of lighting a candle as I count my blessings every night. Because every night holds the magic of the next day. Because every day is a leap of faith. Because we can’t dream big enough for ourselves.

Because it is all still to come.

With much love,

Meghan