Going Towards Discomfort IS the Answer

“The enemy of development is pain phobia: the unwillingness to do a tiny bit of suffering. As you feel unpleasant you interrupt the continuum of awareness and you become phobic and this weakens the heart of the will.” – Bruce Lee

It took moments to put my plan into action. It took a lifetime to accept that going towards my discomfort was the best solution.

Now, I’m a believer. In times of fear and resistance, I need to sit with discomfort in order to find my way forward.

Easier said than done.

Resisting Discomfort During a Pandemic

On Wednesday March 18th, 2020, a week after coronavirus was declared a pandemic, I was sitting in my short term rental in Portland, OR. It felt like the world was going crazy, especially given how fast the news of the pandemic was changing. My anxiety level was through the roof.

As more and more restrictions were being put into place, I contemplated my future. Housesits were being cancelled. Travel to other countries was discouraged. Clients pulled back funding.

What was next for me?

I discussing my feelings and thoughts with a friend. I told him how scared I was of not making any income this year. I explained how my plans for travel and housing were now null and void. I couldn’t see the way forward.

Then, he echoed the words another friend said a few days earlier, “Why don’t you just go back to your parents’ house in New York?” Hearing this phrase a second time, I listened more intently.

Realizing Discomfort

I REALLY did not want to go back. Going back to upstate New York meant failure. It meant living with my parents as an almost 40 year old adult. Going back signified that I had made the wrong choices in life.

It also exposed my perceived progress. It showed me that even though I thought I was on some grand adventure, I hadn’t really gone anywhere.

Even though going back was uncomfortable, I realized that running away from this discomfort would only cause me more pain. Running away would stress my financial, physical, mental, and emotional well-being beyond what I could handle.

I needed to go towards my discomfort, to move forward. So, within moments I scheduled a flight to take me back to the current epicenter of the pandemic.

My Very Uncomfortable Journey

The journey to NY was impactful.

As I struggled with my internal discomfort about going back, there was also a great amount of external stress.

For example, my flight from Denver to New York turned around mid-flight due to NYC closing its airspace. (NOTE: airspace quickly reopened and I was able to get back only 5 hours later than planned. Thank you, universe.)

Another example was the virus itself, lurking just out of sight. I was scared to touch anything, to talk to anyone, and to sit anywhere.

Lis with glasses and orange gloves
Me in the Denver airport waiting for my second flight to NYC. Note my stylish safety gloves.

As I sat on the planes and at the airport gates, I thought. I questioned my immense privilege. I questioned my morals and values. I questioned how the hell I had gotten here.

The Comfort Within the Discomfort

Yet, as I stepped out of my self imposed world of anxiety, I couldn’t help see how, despite the external factors beyond my control, I was incredibly well supported.

Every person I met along my journey into discomfort, from the cabbie in Portland, to the other travelers in the airport, to the airline personnel on the planes, were incredibly kind.

In addition, a dear friend of mine who lives two hours from Denver made herself available to pick me up if my second flight attempt to NYC failed. I even ran into my friend’s son, who I hadn’t seen in years, as he was traveling back to San Antonio from Denver.

All signs pointed towards “You are safe, Lis. You made the hard, but right, decision. This isn’t going to be easy, but the universe has your back.”

However, most of the journey I refused to accept these signs of comfort, which I now see as paving the way for me to safely sit in the discomfort of my return.

Instead I chose to focus on my fear of my future, and what this journey home “meant”. Worse, to quell this perceived fear, I used books, movies, and my own mind to numb and distract myself from the feelings of discomfort.

Why It’s So Hard For Me to Sit with Discomfort

This question isn’t difficult to answer, actually. It’s hard for me to sit with discomfort because it doesn’t FEEL good. I’ve chosen to go toward making myself feel comfortable most of my life because it just feels better.

I think one reason that sitting with discomfort doesn’t feel good, is because it involves having to accept that I am solely responsible for my life.

This means when I look at the circumstances that have brought me to where I am today I have to own that my choices were what got me “here”. And, as in the case of going back to NY, if I don’t like where I am, I can blame no one else but myself.

So you can see that as I sat with the discomfort of my responsibility, both in the house in Portland, and then on the journey back, and even still as I write to you, I had to own up to ME being the reason I am back in an uncomfortable situation. I have to OWN my differences, my individuality, and, as I’ve said before, this is really scary.

But it’s always the very best thing I can do to live my best life.

Why Going Towards Discomfort is the Best Thing

The short answer is if I go towards discomfort, I remove discomfort.

As I sat in Portland uncomfortably thinking about my trip, I saw that if I didn’t go back I would not only potentially run out of funds, but would also face some really uncertain times, and face them alone. I accepted I was not ready to chance both of these because I know I wasn’t strong enough to keep my mental and emotional well being intact. This acceptance was SO HARD.

I also saw just how unnecessary it was for me to go through even further hardships just so I didn’t have to face the discomfort of going home. Who would choose unnecessary pain in order to avoid alternate pain? At some point pain will come, Am I right?

Thus by going towards the discomfort instead of resisting it, I face the pain directly in front of me instead of piling on more pain. This allows me to banish the perceived fear in my mind. Doing so allows me to think clearly and make rational decisions that may not feel the best, but that ARE the best.

The People I Admire Sit with Discomfort

I think it’s important to note that the people I admire most adhere to this principle. Their lives may oftentimes look comfortable, but this is because they choose the path of frequent discomfort.

“Top performers feel discomfort just like everyone else, but they respond differently. They think strong. They recognize the power of the brain to overcome discomfort, and they do bold things despite how they feel.”

As the Bruce Lee quote at the top of this article points out, suffering through the discomfort is the path of the strong of will. Further, the suffering isn’t just physical, it is also being mentally and emotionally shaken to the core.

I’d wager suffering continues in those that I admire to this very day, as their root of all that is possible.

Is Going Towards Discomfort Best For All?

I’ve thought a lot about how I was able to make my decisions from a place of immense privilege and safety. Many people are not as privileged. So, I asked myself, do my words hold true across the board? Or are they true only for those that have a fall back, a support system, or some other foundation holding them up?

My answer so far is that embracing the uncomfortable option; the one that doesn’t feel good BUT that stops most of the pain and suffering we are causing ourselves in our minds, will bring some sort of relief and stability on some level.

It will be hard at first, and it will hurt along the way, but it will be the best way forward until the next opportunity comes along.

It’s about looking to myself first. Not running away when something feels uncomfortable. And “doing bold things” despite how I feel.

A Life of Growth is a Life of Discomfort

If I want to architect my best life, life from here on out is going to have to look and feel REALLY uncomfortable. But, I feel I’m finally ready to face that discomfort head on.

What other choice do I have?


Keeping It Simple to Find My Bliss

Several weeks ago I had the honor of being a guest on The Simplifiers Podcast where I spoke with host, Mary Baird-Wilcock, about my life as a digital nomad. The best part was halfway through when I realized how I have lightened my load to expose my bliss.

The Simplifier Podcast – How to become a digital nomad
During the interview I saw how simplifying my life helped me reconnect with my bliss.

The Story of the Interview

As many of you know, a few months ago I was staying in the East Mountains of New Mexico. While there, my dear friend sent me a link to the podcast suggesting I apply to be a guest. I doubted having any expertise on simplifying, but after following the universe for the past few years, I trusted that her suggestion was not a coincidence.

When I was accepted as a guest, I was terrified. What if I’m not up to the caliber of the other guests?, I thought. I decided it wasn’t for me to judge; if the people who created the show thought I was good enough, then I was good enough.

The time came for the interview, and I was elated to be back on the mic. What I didn’t know was just how much I would learn about myself.

The Big Realization: Lightening the Load

The a-ha moment came when Mary shared her story of her family’s move from their large home in Austin, Texas to their more cozy home in the United Kingdom. She described the process of decreasing the amount of material stuff they had so that they could move across the ocean and comfortably live in a much smaller space.

At this point, we connected on how intimate and HARD the process of lightening our material load is. As I reflected on this later, I noted how I think this feeling has a lot to do with our western culture. From my experience, many of us have come to define ourselves based on our material possessions. For example, I’ve definitely thought things like, “If I have a nice, big house with the perfect blender, vacuum cleaner, refrigerator, etc, well then I’m a successful adult and a great person.”, and I don’t think I’m alone.

Our line of conversation led me to later reflect even further on how every time when I’ve let go of/donated/sold my material belongings, I reconnected with a feeling of pure bliss.

Of course, before the bliss appears I also grapple with a deep sense of fear and shame that makes me reconsider my material shedding. However, each time I push through and let go of the material, I just feel SO GOOD.

I see now that it is this feeling that keeps me going.

Examining the Load

The only conclusion I can form in regards to why this feeling of bliss appears is that there is a weight that having excess puts on me. Whether that excess is material stuff, mental clutter, or emotional baggage, as I left go of it, I clear the clouds that cast shadows on my happiness with simply being myself.

This process of releasing the excess, and the weight that comes with it, is critical to simplifying most anything. And simplifying everything is critical to owning our lives, hearts, and minds.

Why Lightening the Load is So Critical

What I find is that if I carry stuff that I either don’t need or that doesn’t bring me inherent, deep-seated joy, carrying the weight itself becomes my focus as opposed to living my best life from my core.

Roll with me on this. Those of you born before, say, 1985; do you remember the song “The Distance” by a band named Cake? (If you don’t you’re probably better off). For years that song has been in my head (NOTE: this involves a long story that you should ask me about one day over a beer).

While I was thinking about this simplifying topic, I FINALLY understood the song’s meaning. The man in the song is constantly striving or “going the distance” instead of focusing on what he already has in life. He gets weighed down in trying to “go home with the cup”, and misses out on just being. Going the distance becomes his goal, not living his best life.

Another Example of Excess Weight

Here’s another example of excess mental weight clouding our bliss.

I recently finished reading the novel, Siddhartha (thanks for the suggestion, Aaron!).

Towards the end of the book the title character, now an old man, meets his childhood friend, Govinda, in the woods. The two started their journey towards self-joy together, but their paths diverged as young men with Siddhartha going his own way, and Govinda becoming a follower of the Buddha.

Now much older, Govinda says to Siddhartha “Certainly I am old, but I have not stopped seeking. Never will I stop seeking, this seems to be my calling. You, too, it seems to me, have been a seeker.”

Siddhartha corrects him, denying he too is a seeker, then says:

“When someone seeks, then it easily happens that his eyes see only the thing that he seeks, and he is able to find nothing, to take in nothing because he always thinks only about the thing he is seeking, because he has one goal, because he is obsessed with his goal. Seeking means: having a goal. But finding means: being free, being open, having no goal.” ~ Herman Hesse, Siddhartha

Siddhartha has spent a lifetime understanding, then releasing unnecessary weight, like seeking. By letting go of the striving he set himself free. He is content and happy in being and can take on whatever the world brings at him.

How Going the Distance Gets Me Nowhere

Acquiring physical, mental, and emotional weight through excess material belongings, thoughts, or feelings, is a form of striving… of “going the distance”.

But here’s the thing about striving: “If you strive, you never arrive”, nor do you thrive.

Consider these definitions of Striving versus Thriving.

“Striving is the battle to achieve some external marker of success. Thriving is the internal capabilities and conditions we create for ourselves to grow, prosper and flourish.”

I liken the concept “striving” to that of carrying excess weight because to me striving is about acquiring something outside of myself in order to be happy. An example would be me thinking, “If only I had a Vitamix my life would be different.” or “If only I had X client I would be all set.”

It short I’m looking outside of myself for the answers to my life’s purpose. When I do this, finding an external answer becomes my goal, and I fall further and further out of alignment with the core of my being.

On the other end, Thriving is to know our unique gifts and talents and to use them to do well and multiply in a way that attracts the attention of others. Thriving is to have impact, to use our gifts to serve another. When we set out to thrive, we carry our ability to do well with us, we can take it from one career to another, we can continue to thrive in retirement. Thriving is internal, who we are, not what we’ve recently achieved.”

Removing the excess weight and reconnecting to my bliss… I believe this is the spark of thriving.

Does This Mean I Shouldn’t Try?

All this thinking had me thinking. I asked myself, “Does this mean I can’t find bliss or be happy if I’m striving or if i have excess stuff?”

Since this is a quote filled post I ask you to, again, consider this:

“So many people live their life in pursuit of happiness. They are Striving but never arriving. For a moment just close your eyes and think about the opening sentence, ‘so many people live their life in pursuit of happiness’. If you live your life like this in pursuit of happiness you will never find it. It will always be ahead of you. You are always chasing happiness. You are always pursuing happiness. Happiness is always ahead of you.“

Releasing whatever additional weight you have, mental, emotional, physical, whatever it is… that’s when you tune into the present moment, to the bliss of your life. It’s how happiness is within you and not ahead of you.

Scratch that, it’s how you see the happiness what exists within.


Making a Meaningful Life, Even When Life is Meaningless

Once I accept the hard, scary fact, that my life is meaningless; that striving to find the meaning I thought was bestowed on me from birth is really a distraction from the fact that I’m just passing time here on Earth, I own that I am the only one responsible for how I choose to spend my time. From here I can make a meaningful life, even when life is meaningless.

My friend has been saying for years that life is meaningless. He subscribes to the philosophy of existentialism. This is a philosophy I’ve always agreed with, at least cognitively. But, it wasn’t until recently that I was able to really feel the entire concept fully throughout my body and soul.

While Lying in Savasana

I was lying in savasana, relaxing after an intense yoga practice, when a thought reappeared. Yeah, I know I’m supposed to let the thought glide by like a cloud, but this time I couldn’t.

I say ‘reappeared’ because I’ve had this thought before. Thing is I usually don’t give it air time as it’s far too scary to process. But, for some reason I was ready. So I gave in, let the thought fester, and allowed the visions to unfold.

I saw my travels spread out before me. I observed how things really didn’t change much in different places. I didn’t change much. Thus it didn’t matter where I went. I could travel around the world and back, and my life was always going to be what I made of it.

I lay there with the simultaneous emptiness and empowerment these visions filled me with. I actually embraced how alarming this realization was.

After a few more moments of allowing these thoughts, visions, and feelings to take root, I saw that in the core of my being all I’m really doing on this planet is passing time.

I always thought there was some grand story I was playing out, or that I was en-route to finding a predetermined purpose to evangelize, but that day I understood. There is no grand scheme. There is no greater purpose. I’m just here until I’m not.

Facing the Fear

Yeah, scary, I know.

Once I sat with the realization without trying to negate it with my usual defensive thoughts like “No, I have purpose! I’m here to help my friends and family live a happier life.” or “No, that’s ridiculous. Obviously there is a bigger script I’m playing out!”, the most amazing thing happened.

I felt an immense amount of freedom. A burden was lifted. I was back in the driver seat.

Rainbow over Hood River Oregon
The reward after the storm.

Choosing Joy

Roll with me on this one. If life is meaningless and there’s no script I’m supposed to play out, it really is entirely up to me to define my life. In this case, there is no reason for me to define that life based off of trying to create a narrative that feeds my and society’s ego. Why live life for anyone or anything else? It’s my life!

What I should do instead of trying to live according to some script (which doesn’t exist at least in this thought experiment) is choose joy in each moment. Why, because why not? Choosing sadness or angst don’t make me feel very good, and I’d rather feel good than bad.

Cat cuddled on a couch
Ron certainly chooses joy in each moment.

The Point of No Return

I won’t deny that I hesitated to really feel all of this. If I choose to focus only on joy in each moment, would I just be giving up, being lazy, or ensuring ultimate turmoil? Says the line of thinking that’s kept me in fear this long.

But, the feeling I had in that meditation was so crystal clear, I mean it went straight to the core of all that I am, that I knew my understanding of life had shifted and there was no going back.

Diving Into a Meaningless Life

I next decided to re-acquaint myself with existential theory. After some amateur research on the subject I found this principle which I think exemplifies what I felt that day:

“Authentic existence involves the idea that one has to ‘create oneself’ and then live in accordance with this self. What is meant by authenticity is that in acting, one should act as oneself, not as ‘one’s acts’ or as ‘one’s genes’ or any other essence requires. The authentic act is one that is in accordance with one’s freedom., ‘the inauthentic is the denial to live in accordance with one’s freedom. This can take many forms, from pretending choices are meaningless or random, through convincing oneself that some form of determinism is true, to a sort of ‘mimicry’ where one acts as ‘one should’.”

The idea here is that living an authentic existence, in this case living a life where I choose my own freedom and joy in each moment, is paramount to living a happy and peaceful life. Each moment has a purpose of finding joy, but there isn’t some overall predetermined purpose for my entire existence.

Anxiety vs. Joy

Let’s stop here for a minute. Take a breath, and think about what you just read. What if there was no purpose you were supposed to uphold in life? All you need to do is find whatever joy you can in each moment given the circumstances you’re in. That’s it.

Maybe I’m not here to, say, empower others, but only to smile instead of scream when the dog throws up on the rug (not that I’m speaking from personal experience).

The seemingly depressing part about this thought experiment for me is the idea that “my life has no purpose”. I, for one, have been trained since I was born to believe that my life should be purposeful, but I never stopped to question why that’s the case. I just know that when I think that my life is pointless, I feel not so good about it.

I learned that this angst is something called existential anxiety.

Here’s a further description of the term: “Whether referred to as existential angst, despair, or anxiety, the concept is the same: the idea is that life is inherently pointless. That our existence has no meaning because there are limits or boundaries on it, namely, that we all must die someday.”

Well, that’s depressing.

Until I found the opposite of this anxiety, existential joy.

Here’s some more about this more hopeful term: “Existential joy is the direct opposite of existential anxiety. The joy of being one with the world counters the feeling of being disconnected and isolated from the world. Existential joy is what helps one to transcend the kind of anxiety that is all encompassing.”

All this to say, if my life doesn’t have an overall, predetermined meaning, it doesn’t mean I can’t make a meaningful life. It just means that someone or something else isn’t in control of defining meaning in my life.

Snoqualmie Waterfall
Snoqualmie Falls

Making a Meaningful Life When Life is Meaningless

How do I make a meaningful life if life is meaningless? I’m glad you asked! This is where choosing joy in each moment comes in. Allow me to provide another example.

Recently I rewatched the movie Groundhog Day. Watching it after having these reflections and thoughts blew my mind.

Bill Murray’s character is stuck living the same day over and over again; a metaphor for modern day life. After battling his existential angst, he realizes that he is the only one who can bring joy and meaning back to his life, and he sets out to do just that.

He basically just starts doing things that bring him joy. He learns to play musical instruments. He starts helping others around him (which makes him joyful). He basically reflects then takes action on, what will make him happy in each moment.

Although he knows he is bound to a life of the same day over and over again, he chooses joy in each and every instance he can instead of succumbing to madness. He may not have control over the events of the day, but he does have control over how he views them.

For me, the big lesson I’m taking away from Bill and from my recent yogic reflections is that of choosing to opt in to being the master of my own domain. Life truly is what I make it (thank you DMX and Nas).

So, I’m going to work hard to choose joy in every moment. Because otherwise, what else is there but the passing of time?

"Lis" written in the sand
A name in the sand.

On Manifesting (or Making Things Happen with My Mind)

Today I want to write about manifesting (or what I later define as “Making Things Happen with My Mind”), but I’m nervous. I wish to write about it because I’ve had recent success I think others can learn from, but I’m scared because I fear readers will either mentally check out or try to physically check me in at the first mention of this subject.

Maybe I need to find a different word because manifesting sounds too “out there”, “new age”, and, well, whacky. Perhaps an alternate word will make the topic more feasible?

Since I’ve been in Mexico for the better part of a month, I see no better place to start the search for this new word than with Spanish.

There’s a common word in Spanish, the verb “hacer”. This is the first word that comes to mind as a potential substitute for Manifesting. I’ll be honest, to my non-fluent ears hacer seems to be used in so many varied situations that I’m unable to describe its job properly. When I look the word up, however, the most common English translations are “to do” or “to make”.

That’s a good start.

Wordsmithing this a bit, I take the second translation “to make” and then add the word “happen” to the end. That feels a bit better.

The thing is, in my western culture when we talk about making things happen, we usually think of putting physical hard work and exertion in place. Manifesting is different.

Instead of exerting and pushing externally, much of manifesting happens internally. It’s about setting a goal, aligning energy, thoughts, and feeling with that goal, then letting go. Knowing this, dare I say that Manifesting equals making things happen with my mind?

But Wait! There’s Research (Kinda)

Ok, I’m not sure if this sounds any better BUT, maybe pointing out that there IS actual scientific research highlighting my ability to make things happen with my mind might help. In fact, this is the fancy quote from said research which gives me hope that I’m not insane when discussing this topic:

“It is able to represent more adequately than classic concepts the neuroplastic mechanisms relevant to the growing number of empirical studies of the capacity of directed attention and mental effort to systematically alter brain function.”

Directed attention and mental effort to systematically alter brain function doesn’t PROVE that making things happen with my mind is real, BUT it does suggest that directed attention alters how my brain works. From this I can hypothesize that maybe altering how my brain works changes how I act or don’t act when it comes to meeting my goals. And maybe this change in response is what manifesting is all about?

Maybe.

Either way, I’m counting the research as a first piece of evidence. The recent events which happened to me are what I count as a solid second.

Recent Event #1

The first event is a smaller one. A few weeks ago I was looking over my annual finances, and even though I’ve been doing pretty well this year, I noted how having one more small, non-intensive project to give me an extra influx of cash for the holiday season would be perfect.

Realizing I didn’t have the energy to push forward with additional business development or marketing to land said project, I took another approach. I set the goal of said project, imagined what having it would feel like, then let go.

That’s right, instead of churning and putting all my energy towards finding a gig, I simply detached myself from the outcome. I didn’t think about it, nor did I wish for it. I just let it be.

Several days later I received an email from a client I hadn’t heard from in years. They had a desire for a two week project that paid pretty well, and required little effort.

Reading this email I felt the exact same feelings I had envisioned. We were able to set the project up quickly, and in no time we were on our way towards extra cash (and making our client happy).

Yeah, success.

Recent Event #2

When I booked my travel to Mexico, I knew I’d be in the country for one of their biggest holidays, Dia de Los Muertos (Day of the Dead). I greatly desired to learn more about the holiday while I was in Xalapa, and I longed to be part of the celebrations. My greatest wish was to talk to local people about how they celebrated and what the holiday meant to them.

Unfortunately, I knew zero people in Xalapa with whom I could celebrate. Instead of researching Day of the Dead meetups or expat groups or some other option, I chose to go inward. I visualized what I wanted, aligned with why I wanted it, and then let go.

A few days later, on the Tuesday before, I was in the kitchen of my AirBnb host. He, a Dutch man, was helping two of his long time Mexican friends to practice English. As a native speaker, I was invited to join.

Several minutes into our chatting, the wife of the pair said to me, “You must celebrate Muertos with us. Thursday we will take you to the center of the city. Then Saturday, you will come to our house to see our alter and eat with us. Sunday, we will take you to Naolinco, a very famous town for Muertos celebrations.”

I was floored. Right before me was an entire itinerary that met my original intentions, and all of it was created without one bit of grind and hustle on my part. To say I felt a little bit like I had superpowers would be an understatement.

Lis manifests herself in front of Xalapa letter sign.
While celebrating in the city center we stopped to grab evidence that I, indeed, was in Xalapa.
Lis in Xalapa in front of carpet alter on Muertos. Another manifestation!
Behind me you see a carpet. It is made of SAND! These are the traditional pre-Columbian alters seen during Muertos.
Alter in Naolinco. Manifested on my day with new friends.
An alter in Naolinco. This is the more modern form you see with offerings to the dead.
Lis in front of a giant Catrina in Naolinco. No better example of Manifestation.
I’m pretty excited to see this huge catrina (dressed up skeleton) in the middle of Naolinco.
Cortez catrina display. Made this happen with my mind... maybe?
This exhibition is put on every year with a different theme. This year’s theme marked the 500 year anniversary of Cortez’s arrival.
Catrina with a black veil and purple dress. Definitely made this happen with my mind.
This was by FAR my favorite catrina of the day. She was in a local pastry shop.
Lis on bicycle with Catrina in a tuxedo. Look, I manifested a groom!
It was a wild ride!
Naolinco letter sign. My mind brought Naolinco into being... kind of.
I love these signs.

Great examples, BUT how can I be so sure?

I’m the first to admit that the idea that I somehow made these things happen with my mind can seem out there. But, being that I actually LIVED these examples it’s hard for me to deny the premise completely. This conflict made it clear to me that further investigation was needed.

My first step was to look further at the idea that I had made these things happen with my mind. Sure, I thought that’s what I had done, but since I know that thinking something doesn’t make it true, I had to dig deeper.

To do so, I examined if and how others talk about the concept of making things happen with the mind. What research had been done? What results surfaced?

In my investigation, I found several resources which discussed the concept. These, coupled with the research I cited earlier AND with my own experiences further solidified my theory. (NOTE: I will, of course, continue to investigate.)

Another interesting finding was that many of these resources echoed my own experiences. For example, in each, having a clear vision of the goal and aligning with the feeling surrounding that vision was paramount to success. In addition, most of the resources also noted the importance of letting go.

Bringing Together My Investigations

I reflected on both of my alleged manifestations. In both, I set clear goals. In the case of the project my goal was to “have some extra cash”. In the case of celebrating Day of the Dead it was “to learn more about the holiday”.

In both I visualized what each of those outcomes would feel and look like.

In example 1, I saw myself landing a client quickly, felt the project being non-labor intensive and the client being highly satisfied, imagined myself having extra cash, and felt the relief that came as a result.

In example 2, I felt the joy of being seated at a table with friends and festive foods. I imagined myself in the midst of skeletons and colors, and felt the wonder of learning more.

Sure I didn’t know the details of these imaginings, but I could envision what they might feel like. I walked through these events as best I could. Then, when I got to the question of “How do I make this happen?” I did something REALLY IMPORTANT.

I answered, “I don’t know”.

Then, I detached myself from any results, and did absolutely NOTHING else.

I was STILL making something happen though.

The beauty of it all is that during this process I described: setting a goal, having clarity on how the outcome of the goal would feel, aligning with the feelings and letting them sink in, and then, most important, letting go of the result, I was in effect doing or making something happen.

The key was, I wasn’t pushing in order to bring my desires into being. In fact, I didn’t care about the outcome at all! Instead I was accepting my current state with or without the result, while knowing that IF my goals came to pass they would make me more whole.

“I’ve tried this before…”

Before these recent events, each time I saw an article on making things happen with the mind or “manifesting” I scoffed thinking, “I’ve tried this ‘manifesting’ before, and it doesn’t work”! Now, I see my error.

I tried.

In the past I put external effort to the forefront. I had checklists and action plans, and I clung to my end result. I found articles and instead of reading between the lines and finding my truth, I pushed until I checked off each and every step; never seeing the result I told myself I had envisioned.

During these times I blinded my clarity with desperation. Instead of letting go, I focused on grasping and needing things to happen.

I did this because letting go felt like being lazy or giving up, and lazy people aren’t worthy people. More, I desperately wanted to feel worthy of the outcome I desired..

I know now that letting go isn’t giving up. Instead it is giving the subconscious brain time and space to “direct attention and mental effort to systematically alter brain function.” It’s trusting instead of grasping.

And of course, Buddhism holds the key

When making things happen with my mind, there is action and effort, but as the Buddhist texts teach this effort needs to be “right effort”. Better defined here as:

“The most basic, traditional definition of Right Effort is to exert oneself to develop wholesome qualities and release unwholesome qualities.”

I need to set my goals (and make sure they align with making me more wholesome), align with how attaining them will feel, and let go (i.e. let go of the unwholesome qualities of pushing and grasping).

To me this is taking the right effort to bring wholesome actions from my internal thinking into my external world. This is making things happen with the mind, and I’m further convinced that it is 100% possible.

Making things happen in this way is much harder than following a plan or checklist. The latter includes social proof that others have succeeded. The former involves walking where there is no path, and this means little validation and even less knowing.

Walking my own path forces me to trust my beliefs, have faith in myself, and not concern myself with outcomes to prove myself to others.

It’s hard to walk such a path, but from what I’ve learned creating that path is not only possible, it’s half the fun.


Questioning Your Thoughts to Step Into Your Power

I’ve come to realize that most of what scares me simply isn’t REAL.

Yeah, I said it.

Most of what I fear exists only inside the confines of my mind. Knowing this, I can deduce that once I question my thoughts, I can then recognize them for what they are; mere apparitions of consequences assumed but not realized. This truth exposed, I can let go the angst I put on myself and enjoy the experiences before me. This is me stepping into my power.

Despite this enlightenment, the process of investigating and letting go of fear isn’t an easy one. I should know, I face it each and every time I travel.

My most recent trip was from Oakland, California to Xalapa, Mexico. Being that it was my first solo trip to a country that is deemed unsafe by many America sources, I was quite nervous.

One reason for my apprehension was that I didn’t want to be a party to the violence that I hear so much about. The other reason was, quite frankly, I didn’t look forward to standing out and the vulnerability doing so would bring.

I feared how I’d be treated as an outsider. I feared being ostracized, denied, and rejected. I feared being talked about, made fun of, and left out.

As I observed these thoughts, I recognized how they are what many people of color and different orientations deal with each and every day in the United States. This idea both humbled and disturbed me, but that is for another post.

I hadn’t had to deal too much with these thoughts while still around my Oakland based friends, but once alone at the San Francisco airport, I had no other choice but to face them. It was the moment I had been waiting to avoid, and it was here.

On my way through the airport, I stopped to get some snacks and a bottle of sparkling water. Once at the gate, I quickly noted how I was one of the only (if not the only) gringas there. I tried to play it cool, and pretend like I felt as if I fit in (SPOILER ALERT: I didn’t).

I found a seat away from the crowd and settled in to wait for my connecting flight through Mexico City. I then took out my refreshing looking sparkling water only to see that, alas, I needed a bottle open to enjoy it.

No problem, I told myself, you always carry a bottle opener in case you have to, uh, open a sparkling water (yeah, that’s it). Only problem was when I reached into my bag to take out my keys I realized I no longer have keys of any kind on which a bottle opener keychain can rest.

Really, Universe?

I dug deeper and deeper into my bag, but it turned out that in all my minimizing I had omitted this essential component. What to do?

With my fear brain racing, I decided to try to force the bottle open, while hopefully NOT standing out as the stupid, weird, different woman at the gate. Of course, the top wouldn’t budge.

Finally I gave up, sat back, sighed with thirst, and let go.

Then a man seated a few seats over (who was both dressed exactly as I would imagine a man going to Mexico to be dressed; buttoned down shirt, fitted pants, a cowboy hat, and matching boots, and was the EXACT type of person I was scared would reject me) leaned over asked, “Do you need help?”

“Yes, please. Thank you so much,” I replied as I handed him the bottle.

I watched him, remain seated, but take off his belt to use the bucket as a bottle opener. Genius, I thought. He handed the bottle back to me and I nodded my head, humbled, the fear brain’s volume decreasing ever so slightly.

Shortly after we boarded the plane and I settled into my usual red-eye spot, the window seat. I was skeptical of the woman who sat in the aisle seat to my left, but considering we didn’t have anyone seated in the middle, I did my best to recline and try to rest.

After several hours, the lights came back on and we prepared for landing. At this point, my row mate and I started chatting. I learned she was headed to Guatemala for a family wedding, and I told her of my travels to the state of Veracruz. We became fast friends.

Take that, fear brain!

When at the Mexico City airport we traveled through immigration together, then she and I had a few hours before our respective flights. Her fluency in Spanish was an integral part of getting me the items I needed (i.e. coins, more water, etc), and despite my initial skepticism I saw that, once again, the Universe had sent me an angel. I even found myself a little sad to bid her farewell.

Sad and afraid because this final leg of my journey meant me landing in Veracruz alone and then having to secure an hour and a half bus ride to Xalapa. What would happen to me in the Veracruz airport without her Spanish?

Nothing. It turns out.

I landed in Veracruz, gathered my bags, and when I headed through the exit I immediately saw the desk for the bus company. My beginner level Spanish was enough to secure a ticket, and in no time I was on the bus to Xalapa.

Bus interior
The bus ride was really nice!

The fear brain was almost silent at this point.

On the bus, I sat back and thought about my anxieties. I saw how, up this in my trip, they were lies I told myself. Turns out, nothing I was afraid of actually happened. Of course, the potential of bad things happening is always there, but their probability was far less than the amount of attention and energy I gave them.

I made my way, via taxi, safely to my AirBnB, and the fear brain retreated completely. While there I marveled at how beautiful and simple my room for the month was.

Xalapa AirBnB Private Room
My living quarters for the next month.
Flowers in Xalapa city center
Xalapa is know as “The City of Flowers”
View of Xalapa from the roof.
The view from the roof.

Looking out at the rooftop view, I questioned how else my thoughts lie to me. I didn’t have an answer at the time, but it wouldn’t be long before I would find one.

The next day my hosts invited me to travel with them to a village about an hour and a half away in the mountains. The village is one they visit every so often to donate clothes, shoes, and toys to the local people. I jumped at the opportunity to see more of the area, its people, and its culture.

To say I was humbled as we drove into the rural areas and around the village, would be an understatement. The homes were simple; containing 2 – 3 rooms max with outhouses in the back. There were no washing machines. Instead there was a community hand-washing laundry area in the center of town. Finally, it being a farming village, there were animals and crops everywhere.

Village with a teal church
Looking up from the road to the church.
Two cows in a field
This felt a lot like home.

If I ever feared being seen as an outsider, this was the place said fear would be actualized. As you may have guessed by now though, my concerns were unrealized.

Instead, the people welcomed me the same as my hosts; with kindness. Sure many of the villagers were staring at us, but none out of malice. We were simply a curiosity (NOTE: To paint the scene picture me, one Dutch host who has lived in Mexico 30+ years, and one Mexican host who grew up in Mexico City).

The village sits at 9,000 feet so offers beautiful nature and vistas. Luckily, we were invited to walk the roads and explore.

Country road surrounded by trees.
A walk down the road.

About 20 minutes into our pastoral walk, we came upon a farm.

Country farm
The farm we came upon.

Although we were strangers, a farmer came over to greet us. (NOTE: Something I’ve learned about Mexico is everyone greets everyone. “Buenos Dias.” “Buenas Tardes.” Stranger? No matter. You greet!).

My hosts explained to the farmer where we were headed (to the huge antennas to take in the view), and he proposed a shortcut. His suggestion, which we were grateful for, saved us a good amount of walking and provided even more dramatic views.

A view of the village
The village from the hill.
A close up of white wildflowers
Some flowers along the way.

As the walk extended, the inevitable silence descended. I went back to my thoughts. For decades they had told me what a happy life should be. They showed me what type of people, places, and possessions a successful life needed to include. Yet, right before my eyes I was witnessing something very different.

These villagers lived a simple life. They were poor, yes, and they saw hardships. Yet, I never saw one of them visible unhappy. (NOTE: of course I realize they WERE unhappy at least sometimes, but the point is it wasn’t their default state). Instead they went about their lives with a smile. They greeted strangers, invited them into their homes, and gave them shortcut advice. Despite what we in the States would deem as “hard times”, life went on quite well.

I then thought about my trip up to this point. I had been so scared of everyone around me, and yet these were the exact people who proved helpful and kind.

That’s when I was reminded of a very important premise regarding my thoughts:

Just because I think something doesn’t make it true.

I took this with me from the mountain. After I arrived back to the AirBnB and over the next week, I considered how throughout my life I’ve let the narrative in my head hold me back from many experiences. I recognized how I let my thoughts scare me out of living.

I also now knew that my mind’s narrative not only caused me suffering, but was completely “unreal and unnecessary”. I didn’t NEED this line of thinking to protect me. In fact, I could lighten my load significantly, by removing its burden.

It’s a simple concept. Believe my thoughts and suffer, or question them and prosper.

So, I asked myself, Does this mean I can’t trust ANY of my thoughts, or are there certain thoughts I can and SHOULD trust?

I decided what made the most since was to not trust any of my thoughts as law, at least initially.

(NOTE: I should say that I believe thoughts are different than gut instincts, though both at some level warrant investigation. Thoughts, in this case, feel differently to me than gut instinct. The former cause my shoulders to shrug up to my ears and my heart to race. The latter are a solid feeling in the core of my stomach which actually cause me to relax.)

I then asked myself, If I can’t trust my thoughts initially, what am I supposed to do with them?

Investigate them.

There are several great resources that provide step by step accounts of this investigation process, but the short spiel for me is: notice my thoughts, then ask myself: Do I know if this is true?

If I don’t (SPOILER ALERT: I usually don’t.) I go and either look up information, ask people, or engage in some other method of fact finding. I then do the most important step; modify my original thoughts based on my findings.

This means I open my mind to external insights and possibilities, and then I allow the insights and possibilities to open my mind. It’s an ongoing cycle in which I am updating and informing my internal belief system.

In the end I become empowered. I choose what to believe, and ultimately what to experience, based off of my own insights, not those put upon me.

Once I go through this process, I see a beautiful new world before.

By distrusting and investigating my thoughts, I open myself up to new knowledge.

By opening myself up to new knowledge, I introduce myself to new experiences which I was previously too afraid to have.

By exposing myself to these experiences, I compare them against my internal narrative and decipher my truth.

By allowing my truth to be informed and adjusted, I alleviate much of the suffering I put on myself via unnecessary thinking and fear.

I also grow, find greater happiness, and become better for both myself and others.

It all starts and ends with me.

Now that’s power.


Ready for the Dark

“The real issue arises if we get the Diablo Winds.”

My friend (and one of the homeowners I sit for in Oakland) was informing me about the catalyst for the planned power outages in the region. Being that we were up in the hills, we were likely to lose power in the next 24 hours. We had no idea when in those 24 hours the outages would happen, nor for how long they would last.

Since the outcome hinged on the manifestation of said winds, I figured I should inquire further. “What are these Diablo Winds you speak of?”

“The Diablo Winds are the weird kind. They are like the Mistral in Provence and the Scirocco in North Africa. Have you heard of those?”

I shook my head “No”.

“They are winds that, for some reason, make people a bit crazy.”

It sounded somewhat disturbing to me, and sure enough, less than 24 hours later when I woke up and saw that we were without power, I could feel the heightened energy of the dawning day.

Formosan Mountain Dog lying on a bed.
Fay’s face in this picture reminds me of the vibe of the day.

The day was one I’ve come to call a “move day”. My bags were packed, and later that afternoon I would head down the hill to my next sit. (NOTE: because of the proximity of my next location, the other homeowner and I decided it could only be qualified as a “half move day”, but I digress.)

Move days always makes me feel outside of myself. It’s as if I’m simultaneously no longer rooted in where I’ve been and not settled into where I’m going. Instead, I’m stuck in this in-between land of undefinition, feeling as if I belong everywhere and nowhere. These feelings encourage me to doubt if I’ll ever find the right fit.

In short, they’re not the easy days.

The winds started late morning just before I headed out. Was it their arrival that stoked my fears? Maybe. But, considering I was moving into a new house with a new pet and no electricity, I think they only added force to my anxiety.

Australian shepherd on a kitchen rug.
Kylie welcomes me home despite my angst.

After getting to the house, I was somewhat comforted to see the homeowners had more than prepared me for the potential of several days without power. There were flashlights in every room, a bathtub full of water, and water bottles galore for drinking.

With this half an ounce of calm, I began my move day routine: organize bags, hang up clothes, find pots, pans, plates, bowls, napkins, towels, utensils, scissors… you know, all the things you use all the time but don’t think about.

I then went to move day routine phase 2: figure out the light switches before it gets dark, connect to the wifi, figure out the heating/cooling… you know, all the things that require ELECTRICITY! I could only chuckle at my folly.

I decided to get up to date on the blackout situation. I picked up my phone to look up emergency and city resources, only to find out this new house’s location was not conducive to phone data service.

Double fail.

By the time the homeowner/friend stopped by to pick up Fay, who had been spending some time with my new housemate Kylie, I was ready to snap.

Two dogs face each other in a living room
Kylie and Fay await my exploding… sort of.

I almost exploded when my friend shared the news (the first I’d been able to muster regarding our situation) that the soonest the power would be back on would be midnight, while some sources said the outages could last up to 5 days.

I panicked. If I was already crawling out of my skin, unable to work or connect with the outside world, how was I going to mentally survive DAYS of my mind racing to figure out solutions while my heart clenched with both fear and hope?

As I considered all of this, I noted the windows rattling ever more slightly.

Australian sheppard and Formosan Mountain Dog laying on carpet
At least I had these two to calm me.

I tried to calm myself by remembering that I was one of the lucky ones. Missing work for me didn’t mean missing out on food or shelter. I was in a home where I could cook using the gas stove, had plenty of supplies, and had dear friends up the road who I could count on for anything.

Yes, I felt supported and grateful, but I also felt so violently alone and fearful.

I made dinner by flashlight as the last rays of Sun dipped in the West. All the while I prepared myself for the impending dark. I knew I’d be afraid. I knew, being in a new house, that each sound would set me off. I knew that being with a new pet any number of situations I hadn’t yet encountered could occur and I’d have to solve for them.

By the time I ate and cleaned up from dinner, I was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. The mantra, “be ready for the darkness”, on constant replay.

I gathered all the candles available in the living room, lit each one, then settled myself on the couch as Kylie side-eyed my anxiety-filled self from her living room doggie bed. Sitting there I saw I had an opportunity to dig deeper into my feelings; to uncover some shoved away layers of myself forgotten long ago.

Between shadows, I considered my anxiety and fear. Why was I feeling so uneasy? I had all my needs met. I was staying in a nice home in a safe neighborhood. I had all the supplies I needed. I had friends to call upon.

I felt the side of the house quiver as I realized what I no longer had: self reliance. I was completely vulnerable to the situation at hand and to the people around me. Maybe, you never did get through them alone, the wind whispered.

Being vulnerable meant I ran the risk of being denied, refused, pushed away… rejected. I HAD to open up and let go. Considering this, my shoulders inched up to my ears and my gut sank to the floor.

I concluded that here, at the bottom of my inquiry well, was where I had the choice; fight or flight?

This time, I chose fight.

The surrounding sounds quieted as I sat with my reactions and the deep knowing which inspired them. I reminded myself that vulnerability is necessary and stayed with both the discomfort, and elation, at being aware of the opportunity before me.

NOTE: I was also scared of the dark like any normal 37 year old adult. Don’t act like you wouldn’t be.

Once again it took only a few moments of stillness for this illumination. Instead of pushing my fears away and trying to extricate them with logic and reason, I accepted my human-ness; all my moods, feelings, reactions.

I saw by accepting these characteristics I empowered myself to show myself kindness and to make progressive changes. This empowerment had the potential to increase my self efficacy and confidence, and thus increase my ownership over my life while making it more fulfilling.

With this acceptance in mind, the quiet cloak of night wrapped around me reigniting some discomfort, but, secure in my knowing this to be part of the process, I set aside my anxious thoughts and picked up a book.

Not 5 minutes later…. CLICK! The shadows retreated and light was everywhere. I was thankful to have the power back, no doubt, but I also observed how I was left with the disappointment and regret every fighter who wins feels as she exits the ring. The strangling attachment to the action that keeps her alert and on guard.

Now… I know what you may be wondering:

Geesh, Lis, after all this self work you claim, how can you still find such anxiety in these seemingly small moments? Don’t you see yourself a failure for succumbing to the winds, the situation, your own fears?

No, I don’t.

First, because seeing myself as a failure for not “being there yet”, i.e. in a state so enlightened that I’m unable to be swayed by natural human reactions, assumes a “there” exists. In truth, there is no destination on this journey of life. There is only seeing and admitting the truth, accepting or resisting that truth, than taking action accordingly.

Second, I believe that what I go through and feel isn’t me. What IS me is how I choose to respond. So, I can either choose to see my anxiety filled moments as failures as I have done for FAR too long, or I can choose to sit with and accept my reactions, as I did on the night in question. Picking the second option is how I set myself free from the pressures of being “there”.

All this said, I must share with you how legend has it that the winds I spoke of earlier have such an effect on people; in some ancient Middle Eastern cultures, people who committed crimes during the Scirocco were given more lenient punishments.

Perhaps, then, all this narrative I’ve shared with you today is something my mind made up to justify the effects of the winds?

I doubt it. Instead, I like to think of it all as one. I had a choice that night, resist the winds or let them carry me where they wished. Resistance would have meant either standing still or getting knocked over, letting them wash over me guaranteed movement.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned on this journey, it’s that movement is what keeps me going; step by step.


How Owning My Mindset Creates My Reality

“There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” – William Shakespeare, Hamlet

On my recent flight from Budapest to Warsaw, I witnessed a tender moment that almost brought me to tears. I was seated on the aisle of a three person row. To my left, a young boy sat by the window, and his father occupied the middle place. About an hour into the flight, just before we started our descent into Warsaw, I observed the father signal for the flight attendant to come over.

They exchanged a few words, of which I knew zero because they were either in Hungarian or Polish, then the flight attendant withdrew to the front of the plane. He returned several moments later with a small package, a toy replica of the airplane we were on. I noted how I’d never seen anyone actually purchase this type of good on a flight before. Doing so always seemed faux paux, but at that moment I couldn’t understand why,.

The man lovingly handed the item to the young boy who gratefully accepted it. I smiled to myself; warmed, and deeply moved by the sweetness of interaction.

I noticed my response, and then took a moment to investigate and break it down. I realized my reaction was based on me viewing the father, who was about my age, through adult eyes. I sympathized with his “being a parent” imposter syndrome that I hear from most of my friends with children, and took joy in assuming his self-doubt dissipated ever so slightly due to his son’s happy face.

I also empathized with the young boy’s point of view. I recognized the immense joy he must have felt after, what to an adult, would be such a simple act, and I let myself sink into the belonging and support he must have held in his young heart.

It was a great moment.

But… here’s the next thought I had:

I have no idea if this story is true.

Yeah, I know what I saw; a man about my age handed a toy plane to a young boy. But, I had no proof that they were even father and son! Did they really feel all the sweetness and joy I described to myself? No clue! The man could be a criminal kidnapping the boy and giving him a toy to keep him quiet, OR he could be a step-father trying to win the love of a spoiled-rotten young child.

I determined that in the end it didn’t matter. What I TOLD myself was my reality, and the story, true or not, brought me joy. This is when the realization happened.

I saw how a simple thought (whether it was true or not) had both changed my mood entirely and crafted my reality. Then it hit me! “What I think has the power to change my outlook on life. If I don’t take ownership of my mindset and what I think, I’ll never be able to architect my best life because someone else will always have power over me.”

Whew… it was a moment, and the resulting thoughts are worthy of some dissecting.

Let’s start with the term “owning my mindset”? To me, this means being in control of how I think about and react to the situations, good and bad, that life throws at me. It also involves being responsible for how I see the world, and the stories I tell myself about what I see.

If I tell myself bad stories about something that happened, my world will probably seem pretty negative. However, if I tell myself good stories, the world will not only seem more positive, but I will also feel empowered to feed the courage I need to make the big changes that make me my best self.

Front of a bookstore and cafe in Budapest
I could look at this as a simple bookshop, or I can be open to the magic of the working space and secret garden within.
Line of beer bottles on a counter
I could tell myself being 37 years old and drinking beers all day in Budapest is irresponsible… or I could look at it as a gift.
Burgers, blues, and beers festival grounds
If I get hung up on telling myself I should be DOING something productive, I might miss out on some great live music at the Budapest Burgers, Blues and Beer Fest.
Outdoor Beer Garden in the Park
Some may look at a Tuesday beer garden visit as unproductive, I chose to look at it as awesome.

One example of “owning my mindset” was last August when I found myself in Bakersfield, California. Shortly after my time there, I wrote a piece depicting my experience of the city.

The short synopsis: Lis arrives in Bakersfield with the perception that it’s a rough, and therefore undesirable, place to be. Hoping to make the most of it, she decides to open her mind and heart, and after a few days of owning her mind, she has experiences which exemplify the beautiful side of the roughness. End scene.

I went to Bakersfield with preconceived notions, and I could have held onto the viewpoints that it was a harsh, mean, and dirty place to be. I could have let those define my time in the city. However, when I took ownership of my thoughts, decided I wanted a positive experience, and then let life happen, I was able to see beyond the reputation to the good that surrounded the town. Instead of having a negative experience, I had quite a positive one, and even hope to go back one day.

Reflecting on this, I asked myself, “Sure owning your mindset works in these smaller moments, but if all that’s needed to change your reality is a change in your mindset, how can disease, despair, injustice, and poverty still be so prevalent in the world we live in? How can so many bad and unfair events still be happening to so many undeserving and innocent people? Can people really change their realities by taking ownership of and changing their minds?

I thought long and hard about this one, as it’s a line I don’t tow lightly, but after sitting with the discomfort of these thoughts, I saw the answer clearly. Yes, changing your mind IS all that’s needed to change YOUR reality, but changing your reality can’t change what happens to you. Let me explain.

It’s obvious, but I’ll say it anyway. Many events take place outside of our heads. People come into our lives and treat us poorly. We lose our jobs due to poor company management. We face injustice due to ignorance and hate. A storm hits our city and takes away our home and all we’ve worked for. These events are out of our control. No matter what happens in our heads, these events transpire.

The good news is it’s not what happens outside of you that defines your reality. Yeah, I said it! So what DOES define YOUR reality? How you think about and react to the external. That choice is 100% up to you!

A great example of taking ownership of one’s mind to shape one’s reality comes from Trevor Noah’s book, Born a Crime. The book is his story about growing up a mixed race boy in South Africa both during, and after, apartheid. (NOTE: it’s a great read! I highly recommend it!)

Throughout the book, Trevor’s mother is owning her mind, and thus defining her reality. A highly religious woman, she is someone who knows herself, acts from her inner being, and, when good or bad events come her way, accepts and views them through the lens of “God has his reasons”. She knows who she is, and her reality is never swayed. Of course, that doesn’t mean only good things happen to her.

After a harrowing near-death experience, Trevor sits over her hospital bed and says to her, “You’re lucky to be alive. I still can’t believe you didn’t have any health insurance.” “Oh but I do have insurance,” she said. “You do?” he replied. “Yes. Jesus.”

The woman didn’t dwell on the fact that she almost died, she owned her reaction and reframed it based on her deep seated beliefs and inner knowing. Because of this, she didn’t lead with fear, and she didn’t retreat from living to her fullest. She kept on going through life her way, no matter what happened outside of her. I’d wager that she lived the best life she could because of this outlook.

Violinist in Budapest
A violinist owns his reality by playing his finest despite very hot conditions.

Once I had this definition of “owning my mindset”, I started to ask myself, “How do I DO it?”

If you’ve been reading this blog, the first step should come as no surprise. Like Trevor’s mom in the above example, you have to first:

Know yourself

To know yourself, you must go into some sort of stillness.

This could be a formal meditation practice, or sitting still on the train or bus each day without pulling up something to distract you. It might mean taking 5 – 10 minutes before bed to reflect on your day and ask yourself what brought you joy, what took joy from you, where you showed courage, and where you chose compassion. Any of these options going into stillness in my book.

Saint Stephen's Cathedral in Budapest
I found stillness starring at this beauty.
Saint Matthias Church Square in Budapest
I found even more stillness on the walking tour through Budapest. Seeing these sights around me it was impossible not to stop and take them in.

In a video you’ve seen me mention before, The Art of Stillness, the speaker talks about moving to Kyoto, Japan from Manhattan. He notes how living in a place with limited distractions is “clearly not ideal for career advancement nor exciting for social diversion. But I realized that it gives me what I prize most which is days and hours.” He continues saying, “I’ve found that the best way that I could develop more attentive and more appreciative eyes was, oddly, by going nowhere, just by sitting still.”

However you can make the time and space for it, be still each day and you will no doubt be on the path to self knowing.

It’s important to note that being still isn’t the only method necessary for acquiring self knowledge, nor is owning your mindset and telling yourself good stories the only way to craft the reality you want.

Once you’ve got a stillness practice on lock and you’ve begun observing and owning your mind, you must begin to ask yourself an all important question. This question is imperative to creating an authentic reality:

Where am I lying to myself?

I lie to myself a lot. I believe I do this to protect my status quo way of thinking. As an example, when I was in Budapest earlier this Summer I was getting frustrated at not knowing the language. My lack of knowledge caused me to feel powerless in many of my experiences.

I then observed myself (through stillness) starting to blame this powerlessness on the world around me. I was faulting everything else for my lack. When I started to feel these frustrations I knew it was time to ask myself, “Where am I lying to myself?”

Hungarian street sign
What’s in 15 meters? I have no idea!
Budapest Building Facade
A facade is only that. We need to dig deeper.

I answered, “You’re the one giving your power away. No one here cares whether you know the language or not. Take back your power.” And that’s just what I did.

“The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don’t have any.” ~Alice Walker

The situations I encountered which I previously found frustrating didn’t decrease in number, but they DID decrease in frustration because I was now owning my reaction to them. Instead of being embarrassed or feeling vulnerable, I embraced my otherness and love of self. It was a simple mind switch, but it made a world of difference.

So yes, it really is as simple as changing what we think. How can I be so sure? Yeah, these examples are nice anecdotes, but how do I know this can happen out there in the “real world”? Because I’m living it!

Besides the examples I’ve provided so far, there’s the overarching narrative of my life. Oh yeah, I’m going there. Hold on to your hat!

As a woman raised in the rural United States, my entire reality/mindset growing up, what I was told my life needed to be in order for me to live my best self, was one of 1. find a husband, 2. have kids, and 3. be a dutiful wife, mother, and local citizen, and you will find happiness.. I had no other understanding of what life should be.

When I got to my early 30s and was nowhere close to this narrative I TOLD MYSELF I wanted to live, a dear friend said to me, “You know. Maybe you’re lying to yourself. You’re a person who will work to achieve anything you want. If you really wanted this life you say you want, you would have worked harder for it. Maybe it’s not what you want.”

Mind blown!

He was right, of course. Once I saw this narrative was not a reality I wanted, but rather a reality taught to me over the course of decades, I realized I needed to get my mind right and align it with my heart. Instead of beating myself up for being bad at finding a husband, a place to settle, or just bad at being a woman in general, I owned my perspective. I took ownership of my mind.

Now, here I am several years later, no longer faking that I want on that traditional path (though the ghosts of it linger, I won’t deny it).

This doesn’t mean only good things happen to me now that I own my mindset. Bad events do still happen, but now instead of letting them own my reality I take my power back and react to them in a much more centered, powerful, confident way. By no longer reacting from fear, I am directing my life, my way.

You can now see how owning my mind, and thus my reality, is the second structure needed to architect my best life. It’s a structure that, much like the first, any of us can work on no matter our environments.

By owning my mind I am in control of how I view and react to what happens outside of me. I’m no longer at the whim of others, or feel under the control of the powers surrounding me. I am my own master, which leaves me feeling afraid, alone, and powerless no more!.

On the contrary, I feel confident, assured, and empowered to act on my own instincts and desires. With these beliefs to anchor me, I can then take the hard, unconventional actions needed to walk my own path toward architecting the life that’s best for me.

It’s on me, no one else can do it.

At least… that’s what I like to think.


My Best Guess at Cultivating Happiness (So Far)

I told you how the morning after my arrival in Billingshurst, UK I woke with a terror. That moment sparked some further ideas on happiness that I want to run by you. I’ll start by describing that waking up in more detail.

As I groggily questioned the source of my fear, I recalled how, as of just a few hours prior, the homeowners had departed; leaving me completely alone in their home (except for the two very cute, cuddly basset hounds on either side of me whom I would be watching for the next 2 weeks). I resonated with my solitude deeply, which only served to stoke the flames of my anxiety.

Two Basset Hounds seated on a kitchen floor looking at the camera
The two bassets: Penny and Milly.

As the intensity of my horror strengthened, I imagined the feeling as a sort of ghostly transparent, skeleton-like hand hovering over my torso. Visualizing the hand was scary enough, but then I saw the apparition reach in to my chest, find my heart, and grip it so tightly I couldn’t breath.

That’s when the thoughts start. The self depreciating, growth denying, inhabilitating thoughts we all feel when we’re on the precipice of expansion and are afraid to take the next step.

What if something happens to me while I’m here? Who would I call? Why did I come here alone? I’ve made a terrible mistake stepping off the path most traveled and will certainly be punished for it.

I watched as the vice clenched tighter with each debilitating notion. Eventually, the moment passed and I was able to go about the rest of the day, but the essence didn’t dissipate entirely.

A week later I woke around 3am. I did that a lot during my stay in England. Maybe it was jet-lag, the suffocation of two basset hounds fighting to lay on top of me (one of which weighs 60 pounds and is convinced she’s a lap dog), or the fact that I’m not a good sleeper, but there I was again, lying awake in the early morning hours.

Human between two basset hounds on a bed
I was the human in a basset hound sandwich.

This night, the hand reappeared. As it crept towards me, it brought with it a reminder how all week long images of the places, people, and events from my life in New York City (where I lived from 2008 – 2016) pushed their way into my head as my heart longed to be amongst them.

In an attempt to fend off my grisly foe, I considered my yearning for the city. Missing NYC seemed quite strange because I was just there no more than a couple of weeks before. Having such a strong pull felt out of place, misaligned, and unnecessary if its cause was timing. This made me question what else was at its root?

I thought more about New York, hoping that doing so would quell my adversary and allow me to return to my slumber. I brought to mind the wonderful life I had there. I reflected on the career I built, and on how I was so passionate about it then. I imagined my life of friends, plays, sports, and being out just about every night of the week. I loved those times.

I chided myself for not keeping this world alive. How could I throw a captivating life that I worked so hard for away?! The hand clamped down on my heart.

I struggled out a breath and then pointed out to myself that I left NYC because it was no longer for me. I know I left for good reasons, and, although I love visiting, I reaffirmed to myself that I no longer have a need to live there.

I ended this nocturnal self discussion with, “That life in NYC wasn’t yours’.”

The clasp released and I sucked in a deep breath, as I thought, “Oh, that’s what my NYC thoughts are really about. I crave the distractions I had there. I’m grasping for that ability to ignore the realities of who I really am again.”

When I lived in New York, I built this “never ending, something to keep me busy” life and used it as my identity. I could point to it and say “that’s me”, and all was well with the world because I could prove I MADE it. Even better the always busy side of me never had time to examine if I was being honest with myself or not (Not-so-spoiler-alert: I wasn’t).

After 8 years of pointing though, I felt empty. I felt empty because, well, I was empty. All of those items I was pointing at were not actually ME.

This line of thinking stifled my anxieties for the night, and I was able to find rest once again, but when I awoke the next day, I was changed. I had somehow (my subconscious at work while I slept?) concocted a realization from the previous night’s narrative.

I originally thought that ghastly hand of terror was brought on by my fear of being alone without others, but after my dance with my devils that night, I realized this original line of thinking was incorrect. There was one thing and one thing only that sparked that hand’s creeping and crawling towards me:

My deep-seated despair of being alone while not knowing myself.

Yeah, sit with that for a second. I did.

I asked myself why I am afraid of being alone not knowing myself, and here’s the logic I came up with.

I don’t know myself, so I look to things outside of myself to define me (other people, identities, activities, etc). I’ve done this my whole life. I call myself a jock or a smart kid or a consultant or a User Experience professional… you name it!

Now, the cool thing about doing this is by externalizing my identity, I’m no longer responsible for living my best life. The external qualities which I deem as me become responsible for my happiness. I can always blame them if something goes awry. It’s a win-win! I get an identity AND I give up responsibility.

For example, if I realize I’m unhappy in my work, I can blame that work for making me unhappy instead of accepting that maybe I didn’t put in the effort of considering what makes me happy professionally, nor did I have the courage to go towards it.

I do this because I’m scared to fail. I can blame the external things and then… well then I never fail!

When I’m alone and don’t know myself, I’m without the objects or people I use to define who I am, and to whom I give my power. This is REALLY SCARY because it causes me to realize that either:

A. I’m nobody or
B. I really AM responsible for my happiness, but I’ve been slacking on this front BIG TIME.

Even worse, if I admit B is the answer (it is), then I can’t help but see that I have a whole lot of work to put in to make myself happy. This is a terrifying prospect to face, because I could always fail if I actually take responsibility and TRY.

The solution I went to in the past was ensuring I was never alone (Sound familiar?). I kept myself busy, around people, part of something.

Then I came to see that this solution is not sustainable, especially for those of us who want to architect our best lives. Eventually I will be alone, it’s inevitable.

Further, if I want to architect my best life I NEED to be alone without distractions in order to process my life, consider what brings me joy, consider what takes joy from me, and then conjure up the resolve to act on these findings.

So, what do I DO to keep that hand of terror at bay?

I do the hard work of going inward and getting to know myself.

I often say I’m on this journey to uncover how to architect my best life. I’m telling you today one of the most important steps in doing so is to do like the ancients have been telling us for years!

“Know thyself.” ~ Socrates

Yes, the ancient Greeks knew how important this act of self discovery is, which is why they inscribed the words on to one of their sacred temples.

In conjunction with Western Philosophy, The Tao Te Ching taunts that:

Knowing others is wisdom. Knowing the self is enlightenment. Mastering others requires force. Mastering the self requires strength.

Yeah so I’d say getting to know ourselves is pretty damn important.

How do you get to know yourself?

The Lis Hubert version begins with honestly and extensively answering these questions:

What brings me joy?

What takes joy from me?

For example:

Basset hound resting head on an end table.
Go ahead and try to not smile at this one. Definite joy bringer!
A sign which reads "Welcome to Arundel Historic Town"
I love a historic town.
Horsham coffee roaster sign
Locally roasted coffee ALWAYS brings me joy.
Arundel Castle in West Sussex, England
Seeing a castle always brings me joy.
A large art piece on the side of castle walls.
Im welcomed with some fun wall art.
Roof of The Parish and Priory Church of Saint Nicholas Arundel
It brought me great happiness to look up at this lovely scene.
Billinghurst park lawn
Walking through nature always brings joy to my heart.
A West Sussex footpath
Walking down a footpath in the English countryside? A shoe in for joy!

The experiences you see above all brought me joy. However it’s important to remember that I have to continue to ask why they brought me joy, AND I have to be HONEST with the answers if I’m going to get to know myself.

It’s also important to note that I won’t just ask and answer these questions once and be done with it. I must continually ask and answer these questions for as long as I am alive, AND in order for me to do this questioning and answering properly:

I must be still.

Recently, I came upon this video talking about the importance of stillness.

Funny enough the speaker talks about how much he loves traveling. About a minute into the video, he points out that, “One of the first things you learn when you travel is that nowhere is magical unless you can bring the right eyes to it.”

He goes on to describe how to “bring the right eyes” to life. His version was to go into stillness. For him it was “The only way that I could find to sift through the slideshow of my experience and make sense of the future and the past.”

NOTE: He also talks about how he had a fabulous job and life in NYC, and then says “I could never separate myself enough from it to hear myself think or really to understand if I was truly happy”. Coincidence? I think not!

Ultimately the speaker’s advice is “to sit still long enough to find out what moves you most to recall where your truest happiness lies, and to remember that sometimes making a living and making a life point in opposite directions.”

I’ve decided the only way forward is to take the “making a life” path. I know that in order to make that life fulfilling, I need to make it mine.

If I continue to go forward without knowing myself, I will never find personal fulfillment or meaning because instead of living my own life, I’ll be living another person/people’s story, and that story can never fill me up.

I must then know myself, find my own story. How I do this is up to me. No one else, no privilege, no environment, no other people, nothing outside me is responsible. If I fail to be happy, there is only one person to blame. Myself.

Either way, there’s failure to be faced. I’ll either risk failing to find true happiness or risk failing in my attempts to try.

I think it’s time to opt for trying.


An (Un)usual Arrival

My arrival in England was simultaneously normal and not so.

The red-eye flight landed at Gatwick on time (around 10am local time), and we got to the gate and off the plane without issue. Once inside the airport, I made my routine path to the restroom to both brush my teeth and ensure I looked like a person one would trust to take care of their home and pets for a few weeks.

Appearance intact, I put my carry-on bags in place (backpack holding all my clothes and laptop on my back, office bag holding my notebooks, chargers, and necessary next day toiletries on a shoulder, and cross-body purse holding purse things across the other shoulder), then half-awake walked my way to baggage reclaim.

Thankfully my carry-on sized roller was among the first to show itself, and with all my bags accounted for, I regarded my air travel a success. Then, I headed towards customs.

NOTE: I was delighted to find that England’s passport/customs process was among the easiest I’ve seen. It goes a little something like this (for US citizens it does, anyway). Wait in a short line (due to the many lanes they had open). Walk up to a machine and set your passport down to scan. Walk into the UK. Not bad.

Walking out of customs, I saw the homeowner holding a “Lis” sign and a steaming hot, fresh seeming cup of coffee. Woohoo! She and I chatted as we made our way to her car, then laughed as I, embarrassingly, tried to get in on the drivers’ side of the vehicle (“Everyone does that.” she assured me).

She drove us the 25 minutes home, where upon arrival the bassets I’d be sitting were quite excited to see me (in truth they are excited to see most anyone).

Two basset hounds asleep on a couch.
You can see how energetic these two can be. Mildred is in the foreground, Penelope in the background.

We entered the kitchen where I met the second homeowner, and the three of us humans went about the familiar (to me) dance of getting to know the people we were trusting with our dearest possessions. (They trusting me with their home and pets. Me trusting them with my safety and security.)

They showed me their narrow, stair-driven, but quite adorable home, and explained what to keep an eye on and how all the home paraphernalia worked.

Next, we settled back in the kitchen and discussed the dogs’ routines, what else I should expect during my stay, (milkman on Tuesday and Saturday. Fish man is in town on Thursday.) and then planned out the remainder of our day together. They were leaving the next day for Canada, and per usual we had planned a day of overlap time together in the house.

Orange juice in a glass bottle in front of cookbookes
Fresh Orange Juice arrives each Saturday.
Eggs sitting on the kitchen counter
We also get fresh eggs delivered each Saturday. I’m digging this buy local life!

The day together involved walking the girls, then meeting up for an afternoon cider at the pub a few doors down. This agenda suited my jet-lagged state quite well.

The Six Bells pub from the High Street
The Six Bells is where we had a proper cider welcome.

Further intricacies of our time together involved the Canadian born homeowner (the second homeowner I met) helping me to adjust to the many word differences I would encounter here in England. For example, he explained that the ATM is called the Cash Point, that you don’t order coffee by asking for a “coffee” but rather asking for an americano/espresso/latte, and that hot sauce is few and far between.

You know, the important things.

As you can see.. all was going according to a normal house sitter script.

Later that night, the parents of the English born homeowner joined us for a dinner of burgers, ciders, and beers. They also stayed the night as all four of them were flying out early the next morning.

Let me stop here.

Know that although the particulars of my arrival at a new home change each time (i.e. the people, settings, pets), the flow of is one you’ve heard time and again (if you’ve followed this blog. If not you’ll just have to go back and read OR you can just trust me.)

Here’s where it differed.

As we 5 sat outside eating together, I had a moment. Chalk it up to my lack of sleep, my jet-lag, the cider and wine, or all of the above, but for the first time during an arrival, I not only saw, but deeply felt, my outsiderness. This had nothing to do with how my hosts were treating me, but had everything to do with my growth and reflection throughout this journey.

When my house-sitting adventures began I felt quite included and “a part of” during my arrival times with the homeowners. I would marvel at how in no time I’d made new friends who let me into their homes and trusted me with their pets.

Over time I noticed how when the sits were over our lives separated again; we went back to our normal ebbs and flows without each other. More often than not I’d not encounter their world again, despite having such an intense connection when we first met. (I should note this “going back to normal” is to be expected and isn’t negative, AND in some cases I have been lucky enough to stay in touch with homeowners!)

In that moment over dinner, I resonated with the divergent part of the housesitting story, and sat with the knowledge that I’d probably not see or hear from the people seated around me again after my departure.

Then, my perspective darkened. I foresaw their life going on as normal and amazing, and mine going on with me being deeply impacted by opening myself up to their home and pets but being left alone without their energies to fuel and validate me.

I was ashamed of my perceived inequality of effect we’d have on each other’s lives. I then labeled myself as someone unable to figure out their own life, and thus needing to hover in and out of the lives of others to leech off their life experiences. I considered myself needy, unsettled, and inadequate.

This moment came and went fairly quickly, but the aftermath of it stays with me as I continue to sit and wonder narratives like:

Stepping into someone else’s life doesn’t make it my life. BUT stepping into someone else’s life is what I do as a house sitter. So then, what IS my life?

The next morning I awoke around 7am and dutifully reminded myself where I was (“You’re in Billingshurst, England sitting Penelope and Mildred…”). I was exhausted from the previous day’s travel, and curious why I hadn’t heard anything from the dogs when the family left for their flight earlier that morning. Was I really that tired that I slept through 4 people and 2 dogs living a morning together? I learned that yes, I was.

I walked down the many stairs to find the girls sleeping soundly in the lounge (or living room as we Americans say), then stepped into the kitchen where instead of the shame I expounded upon myself the night before, I was greeted with the most marvelous departing gifts. Cleary the homeowners were grateful for my services.

3 ciders and a bottle of wine with a note
Penny looks over at me as I ogle the homeowners’ generous gifts!

After taking stock that everything was as it should be (despite my half chewed flip-flop. Touche, Bassets) I climbed my way back up to the top floor, bassets following me all the while, and the three of us laid down for another few hours.

Back of a narrow town house
This is the house from the backyard. The room I’m staying in is the top set of windows.

When we woke back up, a feeling of terror arose with me.

I’m alone in England. I know absolutely zero people in this town. How will I meet people?

I had felt this feeling before, but had never given it a voice. I made note, and reminded myself I still had no answers to these questions. But, I made my way back downstairs to consider it all. I spent all weekend considering it. This is what I came up with so far:

I love my life. I love that I can sit and write or read in places like these:

Roses bloom in the fenced in backyard
Roses in bloom!

Then hangout for a bit with friends such as these:

Two basset hounds sit on a chair in the living room
Milly (back) and Penny look kind of like models here. So cute!

Yet, in these arrival moments where I’m presented with the happy path stories of those I sit for, because of course I don’t see the hard, real-life moments when only meeting them for a day or two at a time, I question my life choices.

Often these questioning periods fade over the weeks, but this time instead of waiting for them to dissolve, I’d like to be an active participant in helping their dissolution along. I want to learn from my past self, and go through rather than around the issues I’m facing and the discomfort I’m feeling.

More, I’d like to sit with the anxiety of not knowing the future, of being different from the story presented to us (as I believe the majority of us, if not all of us are), and of walking a path alone. Then, from that sitting, I’d like to create an even greater confidence in myself.

You’ve heard me talk about this process once or twice so we know it’s possible. You’ve seen me choose the high road before as well, so we know I have the ability.

This time isn’t any different than those other times. So, why am I writing about it?

I write to show all of us that it takes TIME and consistent PRACTICE to architect one’s best life. It doesn’t happen once just from learning a lesson or realizing a mistake. It’s something we must come back to over and over and over again.

Remember, the journey is the destination, which means there simply IS no destination.

Let’s keep on walking up to and through those small, but important moments then, shall we?


Craving Alone Time: Is It OK to Spend Time Alone?

Ordinary men hate solitude.
But the Master makes use of it,
Embracing her aloneness, realizing
She is one with the whole Universe.

~ An excerpt from Chapter 42 of the Tao Te Ching – as Translated by Stephen Mitchell


I sit writing, hoping you don’t perceive the output as a presumption of enlightenment or wisdom. Since my focus here is based off an excerpt from the Tao Te Ching, the irony of my hope doesn’t elude me.

What IS the Tao Te Ching, otherwise called The Book of the Way or The Book of The Way and of How It Manifests Itself in the World?

Enter the term “Tao Te Ching” into a search engine and you’ll find the following definition:

The Tao Te Ching is the central Taoist text, ascribed to Lao-tzu, the traditional founder of Taoism. Apparently written as a guide for rulers, it defined the Tao, or way, and established the philosophical basis of Taoism.

What is The Tao?

To solve that question, I recommend reading the book. The Lis Hubert version of the Tao’s message is:

Stop trying so hard to BE. By trying, you’re not being, by not being, you’re caught up in trying and therefore missing out on life!

It’s a riddle, and yet, the Tao is the most efficient formula for living a fulfilling life I’ve encountered.

I was reading the Tao Te Ching the other night after a long few days of reflection. I’d been spending a lot of time alone in the countryside, and enjoying the quiet and solitude. More than just enjoying it, I was loving it!

I recognized how much I feared this enjoyment. I started to consider what enjoying my solitude meant. Questions arose.

Why do I like being alone so much? Is my craving alone time just a resistance to connecting and being vulnerable with others? Is me wanting to be alone, me trying to cop out of life?

Then the foundational, ever pervading question: IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME?

An aside. I’ve thought the last question most of my life. Many of us do. We yearn for a “right” way to live, and we’re sure it’s not the way we’re currently living. We believe that by trying hard enough we’ll start living “right”. Then we presume that when we start living “right”, everyone who has denied us will accept us for who we are. Peace and harmony will then reign forevermore.

Hey, I’ve thought this. So, don’t act like you haven’t.

Back to the story. As I was reading, one chapter resonated with my recent reflections on solitude, answering my questions surrounding feelings of otherness, ordinariness, and simplicity.

Chapter 20 of the Tao Te Ching – as Translated by Stephen Mitchell

“Stop thinking, and end your problems.
What difference between yes and no?
What difference between success and failure?
Must you value what others value,
avoid what others avoid?
How ridiculous!

Other people are excited,
as though they were at a parade.
I alone don’t care,
I alone am expressionless,
like an infant before it can smile.

Other people have what they need;
I alone possess nothing.
I alone drift about,
like someone without a home.

I am like an idiot, my mind is so empty.

Other people are bright;
I alone am dark.
Other people are sharp;
I alone am dull.
Other people have a purpose;
I alone don’t know.
I drift like a wave on the ocean,
I blow as aimless as the wind.

I am different from ordinary people.
I drink from the Great Mother’s breasts.”


It has taken millennia to translate and understand the text, and I know my depth of knowledge here is shallow. Still, I’ve bolded the lines which provide the most meaning to me at this time.

My relationship to most of the bold sentiments is easy to assume.

“Must you value what others value, avoid what others avoid? How ridiculous!” – I’ve certainly stated my independence and separateness a time or two.

“Drifting, possessing nothing, like someone without a home”; no surprises there.

“I drift like a wave on the ocean, I blow as aimless as the wind”; yep we’ve heard this on the blog before.

But, this line, I am different from ordinary people, now there’s the stanza that cut into me.

In his notes Mitchell untangles this sharp phrase adding, “I am more ordinary. When I am hungry, I eat; when I am tired, I sleep; that’s all.”

His addition moved me because I realized it describes the rhythm of life I find when I’m alone. When alone, I am often without distraction and can clearly see that all I need for a fulfilling life is food, sleep, and love.

Think about it… what else?

Our careers? Those guarantee food and a place to sleep. Our family, friends, partners? They guarantee love. (NOTE: I use the word “guarantee” to reflect our hopes and intentions, but I think it benefits us all to remember there is no guarantee… ever.)

When I take time alone, there is nothing I’m trying to do but observe the world around me. I also note how the food, sleep, and love point plays out with animals.

Dog stare at deer
I watch as Lyla stares down a doe outside the Lyle house.
Cat laying comfortably on a tree branch
Loved seeing Veronica hang out (Sorry… couldn’t help myself).
Cat face
Ron definitely wants my attention… He gets a lot of love with this face.
A view of the Columbia River.
Nothing like seeing these views on a hike alone – Looking East down the Columbia from Catherine Creek Trail in Washington State.
Peak of Mount Hood and view of the Columbia from WA State
A view from the Washington State side over at the Columbia River, Oregon, and the peak of Mount Hood.

Consider that your pet may rarely ever leave your house or property YET they are excited to see you come home from work each day. I don’t believe this excitement is due only to their brains not being “as developed” as ours. I believe their excitement stems from their needs of food, sleep, and love being met. They need nothing else to be excited about life.

Aren’t these same needs, the only ones we humans have? If all of these were met for you, what else would you NEED to live a full life?

Observing and acknowledging these moments when alone, doesn’t mean I want to spend ALL my time alone, of course. But, when I take the time to be quiet, to BE, I connect with this brilliant ordinariness. I find contentment in this space.

This practice of observing the world without distraction, shows me that whether alone or with others, if I’m participating in anything where I’m TRYING to create and fulfill needs outside of the basics, that’s when I’m copping out; when I’m TRYING to make my life have MEANING, instead of connecting with the meaning of my life.

Perhaps I crave alone time so much because it’s when I’m best able to stop TRYING and start actually living?

Right or wrong, that’s where I’m at.