The louder and more restless the outer world gets, the more I find myself resting in the quietly dynamic spaciousness I have discovered inside of me. From here I can simply witness, with maximum awareness and compassion, and minimum attachment. It’s not a choice of apathy, not at all. Rather, it’s that I feel a growing certainty in me about what is most real, and what is most valuable. When I dwell more in the calm inner spaciousness, I know what offerings are genuinely mine to make.
I have long struggled to neatly clarify my focus, in a mind so active with multiple inspiring visions, passions and dreams, and so full of strong opinions and ideals for life, motherhood, and service. I have felt some angst over the conundrum of how to fit all the puzzle pieces of my life into a tidy frame. I suppose I needed to exhaust myself thoroughly, through the life-experience of forever being several steps ahead of myself in my many wonderful and complex dream-building experiments.
I wanted to share with my fellow struggling humans, and I wanted to help. I have never felt drawn to the more typical activism roles - of circulating petitions, posting signs, or marching in the streets - I nonetheless am likely viewed as an activist of a sort. My brand of activism stemmed from my passion for conscious, healthy living, and mindful relationship with our thoughts and emotions. I wanted to save people from the kinds of suffering and illness which seem so unnecessary. And I wanted to share my enthusiasm for the joys of a simpler way of life, more connected to nature’s healing gifts and soothing rhythms.
These are things I still care about deeply, yet as I continued to watch the sea of outer-world dramas endlessly charging in and fading out, like ocean waves that never cease to roll in and out from the shore, my experience began to shift. And then, years ago, a serious personal burnout revealed to me the extent to which I had inherited the collective urge to keep incessantly moving and pushing and making things happen. A book called “The Joy of Burnout” articulated the gifts available to us when we finally surrender our relentless fight (and flight), and realize fully what it is that we truly desire.
I find it useful to think back to the wisdom of my youth, when I made that heartfelt declaration to myself that my secret personal definition of success was to be “happy and connected.” Such innocence….and yet, what wisdom! How easily the intuition of our younger selves gets crowded out by the seeming demands and pressures of the grown-ups’ world, and even by the excitement we begin to feel toward our dreams and visions for what we will do out there in the world.
I am so grateful for all of my many dream-building adventures, and for all of the potent learning that came along with them. Here are a few examples of the lessons that were there, for me:
All of the pieces never do fit neatly into one frame (except perhaps over time in one much bigger frame!); detachment from the ultimate outcome helps everything flow better; pushing and forcing isn’t as fun or as effective as welcoming and nurturing; teamwork is usually necessary and requires a lot of letting go of control; keeping options open helps the universe respond to your desires; ‘wonder-thinking’ is more enjoyable than ‘should-thinking’; and how I FEEL in the process is more important than the outcome of my efforts.
Somewhere along the way I began to ask myself, “for whom, and for what,” was I engaging in all my very busy running around and manifesting? As I listened deeply, and with radical self-honesty, I realized that the deeper, more subtly felt answer to these questions would truly change my trajectory. This is where it gets tricky. I surely did love my visions with a passion, and I honestly believed in my dreams. I truly delighted in witnessing other people benefitting from my visions coming into reality. Yet my quiet, heartfelt child-self’s desire to succeed in simply feeling ‘happy and connected,’ was muted by the rush of my grand visions, and by my desire to please others and somehow help them to have this experience for themselves.
I have no regrets, and the excitement of dream-building can be tons of fun. I often felt a buoyant playfulness in the process, and many interesting connections and collaborations with others were made along the way. I also often felt overwhelming pressure, and a racing mind and heart. I needed to carry out these experiments! I wasn’t all the way tuned in to all that I was feeling though, and I neglected important parts of myself. It took a full-on burnout for me to admit to myself that my natural way is a much slower, more mindful and contemplative pace of life, and that my deepest desire was truly known by the wise 12-year-old me: to live in the happiness that blossoms naturally from knowing and daily honoring our deep and permanent connection with our natural source and our soul.
I find myself today, on the brink of another grand adventure as I pull up stakes again and return to my original homeland in Michigan, to rejoin my grown children and get to know new grandchildren. I am giving up my beloved sunny sub-tropics in Florida, for the joy of reconnecting with my children. I have enlarged the frame for the puzzle pieces of my life, and factored in space to continue to enjoy some sunny Florida winters when it gets too cold for me in Michigan. My dreams have shifted: they have become simpler and deeper all at once.
In the healing years since my burn-out, I have reconnected with my deeper heart, and discovered that what is most valuable to me is the loving grace of simple presence. Presence without so many attachments or identities. Presence with my breath, my body, my mind, my heart, my soul. Presence with nature, and presence with every being I encounter. Presence with Spirit. In this open, spacious playing field, my outer dreams have less of a hold on me - my awareness and my attention is magnetized inward, and my focus on outer world phenomenon is softer, more flexible and more open. I revel in a completely different kind of reward. I am much less worried about the seeming incompatibility of my various and ever-shifting outer dreams, since now I can see clearly that their manifestation is not what is actually most important, or most satisfying to me. Specific outcomes have lost their hold on me, and I can trust that presence show me the way forward.
This spacious kind of awareness and open focus is very helpful not only when engaging with any dreams and visions that come to my mind, but also when interfacing with infinitely shifting social and political dramas, and people’s reactivity. Many years ago, in an attempt to preserve my energy while honoring my passionate heart, I coined the phrase: “Tranquil Passion.” Recently, a friend designed a journal cover for me with the caption: “Invincible Presence.” I love the way that feels, and it beautifully expresses the intention in my post-burnout journey. I look forward to writing on the empty pages of this journal, as I begin my next chapter up in Michigan.
desired physical outcome vs desired felt experience
how much is enough?
why do we want certainty, more than openness full of options?
So many ways to serve…what comes naturally for you, in a flow that is relaxed and open?
Never thought of how much more important presence is than any outcome. Thank you!!
Beautiful, Ellen - the grand adventure of a human life - thanks for shining your light -- hope to see you in Florida if it works in the winter, and maybe also in Michigan!