Feet on sidewalk next to start drawing

July 2025 Quote: Being Where My Feet Are

As I set up my calendar for the month, I select a quote I’ve found that speaks to me. I write it in my planner and leave space below it to capture phrases I hear or read that speak to me and relate to the quote. I found this practice centers me throughout the month, and helps me be more present in my conversations, meetings, and readings. For July 2025, my quote was: “Being Where My Feet Are.”  

I’m once again in physical therapy. Adjusting and rebuilding my body through dry needling, physical manipulation, stretches, exercises, stretchy bands, weights, and the damn foam roller. Such precise focus on my body – and getting the chain of events to work better together with intention and muscle memory – shows me just how disconnected I am from it. I wear my body every day, but with such little thought.

Here are the quotes, lyrics, and phrases that that caught the attention of my head and heart as I lived in the “backcountry of my soul”:

  • It may take a lifetime to unwind you
  • Grief reveals and reweaves
  • Beneath the ache, something radical is at work
  • Chaos wrapped in melody
  • In spaces where difference and tenderness can coexist
  • On the day each of you were born, you were covered in the dust of the first-day creation; you were forged out of the most brilliant of celestial fires; never take for granted all of that radiates in you; you were born to blaze – don’t forget
  • A vigilant witness to the magic of everything
  • Teach us how to live tender but not undone; Help us carry the weight of this world to you—not on us
  • Become a living witness to the million beautiful curiosities of your life
  • There are some people who have sun inside
  • Someone left fingerprints on your heart so brightly, the light still catches on them
  • That you lived a moment so fully its echo still finds its way back into our lungs
  • God, please put my feet on the path of your will
  • Change is grief
  • We write to taste life twice—in the moment and in retrospect
  • Plant seeds in the garden of your own mind

If physical therapy, yoga, and mindfulness have taught me anything it’s just how disconnected I am from myself. How much of my body and mind are on autopilot … or checked out completely. These practices also show me – time and time again – just how much wisdom is in my body.

All that it stores. All that it communicates. All that it makes possible.

It’s an immense source of knowledge, as well as an articulate warning system.

My most priceless commodity that I often lug around rather than listen to.

These mind-body centered practices also show me how uncomfortable it can be, to be with myself – my body. Each intentional visit shows me a new internal landscape. The aches I find from loss. The emotional landmines waiting patiently. The pockets of pixie dust left by love. The darkness of doubt. The electrical crackle of new ideas. The constant, soft murmur of faith. The deep in my DNA exhaustion. The tension-formed boulders I carry. The fragments of others I store for rainy days. The golden thread that ties me from the earth to the stars, connected to something more than the arteries, veins, organs, muscles, and bones that are my being.

My body is both a map of and guide to my life’s journey.

A map in constant formation.

Storing the past. Absorbing the now. Adjusting for next.

The map of a body – a being – that is still evolving.

Here’s to being a better map reader.

Emily sits on a brass statue of a duck in Boston

June 2025 Quote: Let’s Get Lost in the Backcountry of Our Souls

As I set up my calendar for the month, I select a quote I’ve found that speaks to me. I write it in my planner and leave space below it to capture phrases I hear or read that speak to me and relate to the quote. I found this practice centers me throughout the month, and helps me be more present in my conversations, meetings, and readings. For June 2025, my quote was: “Let’s get lost in the backcountry of our souls.”  

I love a good plan… well, more specifically, I love a good “to do” list. They help me get the things done that matter to me. They give me a wonderful sense of control (which I know is false and fleeting). They give structure to my world that continually seems like it’s falling apart—or at best like an old car you hope will start when you get it first thing in the morning. It gives me direction when all too often I feel as thou I’m treading water in a vast ocean. They also give me normalcy, mundaneness which I especially welcomed after dad died. An anchoring, tangible item I can hold in my hand that brings me into the present moment when the swirl inside my head and heart blurs so much as the world spins.  

Here are the quotes, lyrics, and phrases that that caught the attention of my head and heart as I lived in the “backcountry of my soul”:

  • The Universe only pretends to be made of matter, secretly it is made of love
  • What is sometimes called “loss of focus” or “loss of motivation” is often accumulated fatigue
  • Your calm matters more than your answers
  • When you let go of trying to get more of what you don’t really need, it frees up oceans of energy to make a difference with what you have
  • May your vibes shift the whole damn frequency of the room when you walk in
  • Be brave enough to start at something new
  • This single grain of cosmic sand contains infinite wonder
  • These holes in our hearts are holy sites and we should treat them as such
  • I wish you could see what I see; it’s all such joyful chaos
  • Chasing the fringe of infinity
  • I want to become a river; I want to flow into wonder
  • Intermission is over
  • Daydream with me a forest made of our prayers we thought were being unanswered—but were just growing roots

A few years ago, a sister-friend surprised me with a trip to one of her favorite cities, Boston. She planned it all out so I’d get to see all the tourist favorites like the “Make Way for Ducklings” statue, “one if by land and two if by sea” church, the Beacon Hill Bookstore with Paige the squirrel mascot, and one of our shared favorites, the Foo Fighters. This trip was both adventure and salve as it occurred a few months after I left mom’s and merged back into life following dad’s death.

We romped all over and I was grateful to be in a new place with no attached memories.

We followed my friend’s activity plan building memories as we walked, ate, laughed, photographed, and drank together with ease… until we missed the ferry and our plan disintegrated. What emerged from a missed checkmark on our itinerary was a phrase that opened up the rest of our weekend to the unknown and one I rely on to this day to help me navigate through, beyond, and in spite of my plan.

“It’s not the adventure we planned, but it’s the adventure we didn’t know we needed.”

I pass this phrase on in hopes that it gives you acceptance of the moment in you’re in and the freedom to forge ahead into the unknown with curiosity, passion, hope, and ease.     

This is, after all, your adventure. Make the most of it.  

Emily next to sign that reads "this is the place"

May 2025 Quote: The Rare & Unique Combination of…

As I set up my calendar for the month, I select a quote I’ve found that speaks to me. I write it in my planner and leave space below it to capture phrases I hear or read that speak to me and relate to the quote. I found this practice centers me throughout the month, and helps me be more present in my conversations, meetings, and readings. For May 2025, my quote was: “You are the rare and unique combination of what was and the bright possibility of what can be.”  

More and more, I feel like I’m in a weird middle place. The past ways don’t fit as well – sometimes feeling like a tight shrunk sweater that restricts me and other times like meeting a friend from high school that you didn’t stay in touch with, you recognize them and remember the great old feelings, but the connection is gone. Candidly, it seems like it would be easier if the old “what was” came back into vogue. That I could slide back into that favorite pair of jeans again if you will. But then again, the “possibility of what can be” pulls me forward with trepidation and curiosity.

Here are the quotes, lyrics, and phrases that that caught the attention of my head and heart as I lived with the inspirational phrase “You are the rare and unique combination of what was and the bright possibility of what can be”:

  • Life is not a fist but an open hand waiting for another hand to enter it into friendship
  • Think higher, feel deeper
  • Be responsible for the energy you bring into the room
  • Write the ache; Write the awe; Write the in-between
  • Give yourself the chance to go beyond what they’ve named you to be
  • You’re not behind, you’re becoming
  • This moving away from comfort and security, this stepping out into what is unknown, uncharted, and shaky – that’s called “liberation”
  • Remember who you are – a child born with a piece of the sky in your pockets and thunder in your voice
  • I wonder who I might become without all these heavy things I carry? I wonder who I am becoming because of them?
  • Love me the way the wind does the chime
  • The eye won’t see what the mind doesn’t know
  • Turns out not knowing might be the holiest feeling I’ve ever had
  • You’re clearly living your life’s purpose
  • Our skin isn’t a border between us – it’s a shared holy garment
  • You cannot stop sorrow birds from flying over your head, but you can stop them from building a nest in your hair
  • There’s a lot of people out there waiting to experience your heart
  • Give thanks for unknown blessings already on their way
  • Who knew it could be so incredibly healing to just stay still and listen
  • Dancing through waves of stardust
  • Be interested rather than interesting
  • Weeping is a state of temporary enlightenment
  • A calming rain on the raw flames of my grief
  • What a gift it was that the Universe brought me back to the only place I needed to be
  • Wrapped in reckless joy

A year ago, I began yoga. Returning to 5 days a week of my beloved Orange Theory not only felt daunting after a nearly 2-year absence as I’d focused on my father’s Alzheimer’s, but also not fitting any more. As I tried to cajole myself back into “what was” (my favorite 6:15am Orange Theory) I kept hearing the call to yoga. Yoga seemed daunting too but necessary in a way I couldn’t explain. So, I stepped into the 7am “possibility of what can be” with yoga at Refresh, a neighborhood studio.

As I walked past Orange Theory on my way to yoga, a sense of guilt came over me. Like I was cheating on it with yoga. I felt less than as I thought about all I couldn’t do under the orange lights. I felt lost as something I loved and brought me joy no longer struck a chord. But I walked on into possibility listening to what called me forward.

Practice

As I’ve shared with friends, yoga has been humbling, humorous, and helpful. More of an internal sweat and workout in many ways. I realized my spirit needed to work some things out… while my body played along. Such as how to breathe again. Not the shallow quick hyper vigilant breaths of chaos, fear, and loss, but the deep stabilizing breaths that shift the brain from an alert-centered doing lens to an accepting being perspective. Or, how the tongue is my body’s built in stress detector, shoved up against the roof of my mouth, willing me upright in complex moments or yoga poses. And a big one, that practice is not just for little league, but for life. Looking at everyday activities as “practice” helped take the edge off of being in the unknown middle. Each moment was an opportunity where I could try to be more present, more curious, and with a more playful attitude – after all it was just practice.

This past week, yoga revealed a milestone lesson: that the practice in the middle brings about “the bright possibility of what can be.”

Bend

For a year, I’ve done various poses 3-4 days a week. I looked at each asana (pose) separately. This week at the start of class the yogi said the class would prepare us all to do “wheel pose” (aka, back bend or Chakrasana). I didn’t pay it much mind as that is an advanced pose to me. I just practiced each pose in that class as I always did. At the end, we laid on our mat and she talked us through positioning for wheel pose. I followed her words, pushed with my arms. Nothing. She proclaimed, “I know you’re all strong enough” — seeing possibility I did not.

She then offered a modification. We took our mats and blocks to the wall, and she gave us an optional way to move into wheel. We went one at a time, everyone applauding when a person achieved the back bend – and also when they didn’t but practiced getting there. I wanted to try. I let others go first thinking running out of time would help me avoid having to try and fail. I then went for it with the yogi next to me. With a big breath and relaxed tongue, I did it. All the way up. Both the pose and accomplishment felt delightful. I was there in wheel!

It was then that I realized it was the in between time – consistent practice, exploration, and modification – that prepared me for the next… and what a “rare and unique combination of what was and the bright possibility of what can be” being in the middle could be.

Emily stands at "7 Magic Mountains" art in Las Vegas

April 2025 Quote: Likeable Badass

As I set up my calendar for the month, I select a quote I’ve found that speaks to me. I write it in my planner and leave space below it to capture phrases I hear or read that speak to me and relate to the quote. I found this practice centers me throughout the month, and helps me be more present in my conversations, meetings, and readings. For April 2025, my quote was: “Likeable badass.”  

As someone who focuses on words for a living, I tend to pay attention when the phrase “likeable badass” arrives via text at 8am on a Friday of a long week full of hard questions and emotional fraught. I was worn out from another month of major career disruption and heartbreak as a consultant to the federal government. The message from a loved one who I admire, but don’t hear from or see often, both grounded and exhilarated me: “…I have to say you are 100% one of the people that comes to mind when I hear that phrase… have an awesome day and a wonderful weekend!!” As I read, and re-read the text, I took a mindful pause to simply sit with it and how I felt. Surprise. Wonder. Disbelief. Giddiness. Appreciation. Motivation. This random text. These two simple words. The corresponding electrical surge. This is why I constantly say, “words matter.” Little did I know that morning how much my perspective on “likeable badass” would change over the next 30 days.

Here are the quotes, lyrics, and phrases that that caught the attention of my head and heart as I lived with the inspirational phrase “likeable badass”:

  • How can I best show up for you?
  • Just do your job and then let go
  • A bird doesn’t sing because it has an answer; it sings because it has a song
  • This moment is sacred
  • Sometimes the trophy is atrophy
  • If you let yourself be blown to and fro, you lose touch with your root
  • Your gifts are meant to be in motion
  • Our emotional guidance system feels the magic of the world we operate in
  • A secret to happiness is to be as weird as you like and the wrong people will leave the party but the right ones will join the dance
  • So long as you have food in your mouth you have solved all questions for the time being
  • Looking for angels who are living among us counts as bird watching
  • Soul is the fingerprint of God that becomes the physical body
  • Peace, broken into pieces
  • It will be OK, because we will make it OK
  • When and where did I feel most whole today?
  • A little shimmer that says, “yes!”
  • When it comes to directing our energy, we have four options: to push, to pull, to pause, to allow

While I initially thought having the phrase “likeable badass” would give me extra gusto throughout the month, I quickly realized the phase shined a spotlight on others who embodied this moniker. It was as if having this phrase large at the top of my April calendar helped me see this trait in others in a new way as I supported my clients who are leaders in the federal government.  

I felt for a “likeable badass” who joined a video call without coming on camera and authentically said, “I cannot do this call today. It all hurts.” Then shared how vacant the building was the first day after significant staff cuts.

I noticed the “likeable badass” when the person expressed survivors’ guilt and asked, “Why am I still here when so many others got cut? Why do I have a job, and they don’t?”

I mourned for a “likeable badass” when a federal executive shared, “I put 25 years into my work to help others and it’s been wiped out.”

I consoled a “likeable badass” who calmly shared, “I’m sitting here for the third Friday, waiting to hear if my name is on the list for cuts while I implement the latest guidance. Everyone has their office packed up just in case.”

I admired a “likeable badass” when one stood up in a room of 40 other federal leaders at an educational event and asked, “How can I, as a leader, use my voice to effectively help my team when I don’t understand what is going on with the changes and why?”

I ached for the “likeable badass” when they commented, “I’m tired of seeing 50-year-old grown men cry at work.”

I cried for a “likeable badass” who said, “Between the new schedule and our lack of available day care, I’ll probably have to quit my job of 15 years — if I still have one.”

I appreciated a “likeable badass” who said to the entire division, “We’ve been training for this for years with our operational principles. We know how to work together and what’s important as a team. We’ll stick to this as we move forward together.”

I was inspired by a “likeable badass” who, at a table of five former federal employees, shared, “it’s so lonely looking for a job after you’ve been laid off” – opening the door to an honest discussion and shared resources.

Finally, at the end of the month I relished a “likeable badass” who told my executive leadership team, “It’s important that we pause, take a break, and then come back and regroup. Be sure to take time with your loved ones.”

These conversations, and many others throughout April, were hard to be a part of… nothing to solve, just presence to give.

These authentic federal leaders gave me a new standard by which I measure “likeable badass.” They showed genuine heart backed by deep expertise and a goal to improve the lives of all Americans. These leaders demonstrated a combination of pain, endurance, and compassion … continually showing up for their team and their mission, all while slogging through their own concerns and exhaustion. These leaders were human; acknowledging their – and others – emotions, rather than acting as if they don’t exist and have no impact in the office. These leaders did not have answers and moved forward into the abyss anyway … committed to do right by the oath of office they took, the people they oversee, and the mission they serve.

Badassery through and through.

dark clouds at beach with sunlight coming through

March 2025 Quote: And Here We Are. Breathing. Loving. Rising.

As I set up my calendar for the month, I select a quote I’ve found that speaks to me. I write it in my planner and leave space below it to capture phrases I hear or read that speak to me and relate to the quote. I found this practice centers me throughout the month, and helps me be more present in my conversations, meetings, and readings. For March 2025, my quote was: “And here we are. Breathing. Loving. Rising.”  

After having this quote-centered practice for five years, it still surprises me when a quote connects so well with my month in ways I couldn’t anticipate. This month the connection was eerie. Here are the quotes, lyrics, and phrases that that caught my attention last month as I breathed, loved, and rose:

  • Living in wonder is the rent I owe God
  • The cure was courage
  • You have to open your mouth and own your story
  • May you live long enough to know why you were born
  • Lost in the between space
  • Jump, and you’ll learn how to unfold your wings as you fall
  • We are not our thoughts, but the observers of them
  • Be a guide
  • We are the silent consciousness beyond
  • Find the right places to practice your gifts
  • Change requires choice; Choice comes from insight; Insight needs space
  • There is possibility in pain
  • Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right doing, there is a field; I’ll meet you there
  • Our life is elastic
  • Everything softened with more possibility
  • Wishing wholeness and wonder
  • May you dance with the unknown, twirl with joy, and sip deeply from the cup of your own magic
  • The real thing to know about light and dark is that it’s always both, and sometimes one is more clear than the other

I grew up going to the beach each summer and we all loved going out into the ocean and “riding the waves.” Early on holding dad’s hand (at 6ft he was a safer bet than mom at 5’2” to get over the wave), then tossed over the wave by dad, later on a raft with my brother, and eventually alone having found my own balance and rhythm of the ocean.

Typically, there was always one “good” day in which the ocean flexed for us and demonstrated its power with hard crashing waves. The thrill and struggle of facing them, choosing over or under, and getting wiped out generated great doses of adrenaline. Squeal! Whomp! Swirl! Laughter! Repeat. I loved it… for one day. The rest of the time I savored the gentle rolling waves that we, as a family, all floated over together.

Every day in March, however, felt like another day of crashing waves. Adrenaline, crash, find my footing, catch my breath, and rise for the next one. As a consultant to the federal government, March felt like crashing waves on my client side and an undertow at work. Just like in all systems in nature, there are symbiotic forces at play at work too.

Breathe

I held my breath as I logged into a call, wondering if the client would be there or lost their job. I held my breath as a watched the news trying to make sense of the disruption and find my footing to best engage. I held my breath as I sat in leadership calls and learned of more and more cut contracts. I held my breath through a round of layoffs.

Then, as if my body knew it couldn’t operate this way much longer, I heard a phrase in my head that is shared in every yoga class or mindfulness practiced I’ve done: “Come back to your breath.” So, I exhaled. Breathed. And eventually found more of a normal rhythm.

Love

Breath (rich oxygen) fueled my fritzed system, and a bit of logic appeared. I realized while I wanted to “do something” and find my footing (control things back to “normal) – the only thing I could truly “control” was how I showed up for others. So, I loved.

I did more one-on-one “buddy check” calls. I texted a few memes to drop a giggle or hug into someone’s day. I used social media to open my network to share job opportunities, job hunting tips, and connections. I sent a few care packages. I mailed some silly postcards. I emailed a Starbucks gift card. I listened without attempting to solve. And then love became a wave of its own as a friend texted me on a day where a tear sat poised on my eyelid ready to fall and asked, “How can I best show up for you?”

Rise

Just like in nature – there are balancing forces in every system. Breathing helped me stabilize. Love helped me recalibrate so I could rise. Specifically, rise with intention – with clarity on what I want to bake into the DNA of the new system:  hope, encouragement, and compassion.

lit candles in a church

December 2024 Quote: “Go Easy, My Love – Go Easy”

As I set up my calendar for the month, I select a quote I’ve found that speaks to me. I write it in my planner and leave space below it to capture phrases I hear or read that speak to me and relate to the quote. I found this practice centers me throughout the month, and helps me be more present in my conversations, meetings, and readings. For December 2024, the quote that centered me was “go easy, my love – go easy.”

I found this quote in a poem by John Roedel, and knew it was the advice, reminder, and mantra I would need throughout December. Not just to balance against the added Christmas activities and expectations, but for more personal reasons. This would be my first Christmas without Dad, and the last of the “firsts.” This quote gave me permission to move with ease in the tender moments of the holiday season and be with my heart not my head of “must do’s.”

Here are quotes, lyrics, and phrases that that caught my attention during the month…

  • Habits of the heart
  • Claim time with the holy
  • Prayer does not fit us for the greater work, prayer is the greater work
  • Rest allows us to do what matters most
  • Grief that remains with us until we pass is just unexpressed love because we never have enough time
  • The glorious impossible
  • God sadly has given you the experience to hold them through this painful time
  • Welcome to the dream space
  • We are divine
  • Our spirit knows better
  • There is space for the unknown
  • The light resides inside the darkness
  • You’re locating yourself
  • Will you trust in your divinity enough?
  • Reclaim rest as holy
  • So, if you are too tired to speak, sit next to me for I, too, am fluent in silence
  • When you can’t look at the bright side, I’ll sit with you in the dark
  • Who are the sharpeners of your vision?
  • You can just be

Go

The quote showed up differently for me throughout the month. It began more of a command, “go easy!” as I struggled to decorate—as each decoration put me in the setting of dad’s final days last year, and a time of year he cherished most. A complex contradiction of lights, smells, and embodied memories in every Christmas decoration. It morphed into permission to walk away from some traditions, “my love, go easy.” It was a balm when my emotions continued to bubble up – a reminder to be with them rather than push through them, “easy, my love.”

Easy

The quote also inspired me to step off the glittery holiday carousel and really sit with my shit. I didn’t want to wallow, but there was too much to feel. So, I listened. “Love, go.” And I went to my first “Longest Night” service at Westminster Presbyterian Church. Held on the Winter Solstice, the day with the most darkness, the contemplative candlelight service provided space to be in community as we each individually connected with our loss and acknowledged it. Scripture, meditation, and music. The simple service did not eliminate our pain or try to whitewash it away with good news. It simply gave space – acceptance – that hurt and hope, loss and love, were part of living with heart. That we see and feel the light because of the darkness that is there. Each one makes the other seen and felt.

The service closed with silence. Each person centered on their heart’s emotions. Then if compelled to, they rose to light a candle as they prayed silently for light in their – or their loved ones – darkness.

Each person invited to remain in the tiny white chapel as long as they needed, in the warm glow of the sacred light we generated in prayer. I was the last one there. Alone in the scared stillness, snot-nosed, and held by divine grace.

My love

The tears fell. Poured. In what was clearly a needed release. My unexpressed love and unprocessed loss bottled up, now fully released. “My love, go.”

Alone, I walked to the back of the chapel. There I found the brass plaque with Dad’s name and life dates on the columbarium wall. I laid my hand on it, spoke to him, and prayed for many in my life—those who buoyed me this past year and those who need support now too.

As I turned and stood in the doorway to the chapel, it was then that I noticed just how much light our individual prayers of comfort and hope generated.

Go easy.

My love.

Go easy.

desk and items on wall

September 2024 Quote: “Give it a try,” whispered the heart.

As I set up my calendar for the month, I select a quote I’ve found that speaks to me. I write it in my planner and leave space below it to capture phrases I hear or read that speak to me and relate to the quote. I found this practice centers me throughout the month, and helps me be more present in my conversations, meetings, and readings. For September 2024, the quote that centered me was: “Give it a try,” whispered the heart.  

I still consider September the start of my year. Perhaps it’s due to the conditioning of “back to school” – a new season to learn… or because I’m a “fall baby” and sense this is my time to reflect and renew. Regardless of the reason, I treat fall like a sacred time. A preparation for what is to come. It’s like fall is nature’s way of saying, “wake the fuck up!” through the air’s crispness and the vivid colors before a restorative winter cuddled up. There is an energy I feel as the wind arises in autumn or maybe it’s more of a targeted whisper, “Get ready. Get clear on what you need. Gather acorns that will nourish you as you rest, regain, and restart in the spring.”

Here are quotes, lyrics, and phrases that that caught my attention during the month…

  • Cosmic consequences of everyday occurrences
  • This rushing mercy
  • Affirm the sacredness of mundane things
  • That’s the debt you must pay for taking the risk to love somebody else; You are sending your heart to heaven one bit at a time
  • Education is not the filling of a pot, but the lighting of a fire
  • Don’t race through your heartache because you might miss a miracle or two
  • You are the disco comet from deep space
  • You are the only thinker in your brain
  • Accept that it may be changed, even remade, through the power of the Spirit
  • If you think you are to small to be effective, you have never been in bed with a mosquito
  • Play to learn
  • You are the art
  • I’m not going to miss a beautiful day because the day before hurt
  • It doesn’t enhance sacredness, but it acknowledges it, and there is power in that
  • The reader is the co-creator of the written word
  • It is good to love many things, for there in lies true strength, and who soever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is well done
  • I don’t know anything with certainty, but seeing the stars makes me dream
  • You were lit long ago to never be put out

I tried to listen to the whispers in September and set into motion my spring’s bounty.

History

First, I explored my history. I tackled our storage unit which began as an organizing activity and became an emotional exploration. Five hours later, I not only had a car full of items to donate and treasures to mail to loved ones, but a heart full of gratitude. Each box extended my roots causing a renewed mix of groundedness, connection, and confidence. Pictures, keepsakes, and hand-me-downs took me on a journey back to myself. To the love which made me and the God-given spark and spunk that resides in me.

Home

Next, I adjusted my workspace at home. I write at an antique secretary. This piece, once housed in my Dad’s study at church, was a gift from a member. Beside it, I placed a re-upholstered prayer bench from France that he and my mom picked out together years ago. In September I add images around the prayer bench … first the four Oehler boys (dad, his two brothers James and John, and bonus brother Leland Park from their fraternity at Davidson College) – now all deceased… next an angel made by a local artist at Sunset Beach, NC… finally, the stole mom cross-stitched by hand for dad which he wore at weddings, Christmas, and special services. This gave me a place to be in peace and comfort as the gray winter days creep forward.

Self

Finally, I looked inward. I joined Momentum, a 12-week mindful leadership program. I took time to build new habits through practices that help me excavate my head, heart, and gut – and choose rather than simply react. To push back against the brain’s survival stance of negativity bias and get intentional about what is grown and nurtured inside of myself. So far I practiced RAIN, Loving Kindness meditation, and SCARF model. Each one like a hard workout… awkward to start, sore after, but easier with time – all to help me emerge better.

I tried each one – history, home, and self. Each try required a try again, and again, and again. All with the recuring theme “pause and prepare.” To try to pause with my head, heart, and gut. To try to think, feel, and decide what to keep, reframe, toss, and embrace. To try to prepare to be a more intentional me.

And my heart feels better for it.

Emily in front of view of mountains

August 2024 Quote: Absorb the Grace and Glory of the World

As I set up my calendar for the month, I select a quote I’ve found that speaks to me. I write it in my planner and leave space below it to capture phrases I hear or read that speak to me and relate to the quote. I found this practice centers me throughout the month, and helps me be more present in my conversations, meetings, and readings. For August 2024, the quote that centered me was: Absorb the grace and glory of the world.  

This quote seemed fitting for the month when so many are on vacation, me included. And, I would be in two majestic places in the month where there would be plenty to absorb. A beach island for two weeks – one with my family and one with my hubby’s. Then the mountains of North Carolina for a writer’s conference with poet John Roedel at the Art of Living Retreat Center.

Here are quotes, lyrics, and phrases that that caught my attention during the month… of which most were captured when writers read their work on the last day of the 30-person conference:

  • You are your own birdsong
  • Go down the rabbit hole of wonder
  • Listen to the wind…pay attention to the patterns
  • When is the last time you heard your authentic voice?
  • More joy, less head trash
  • You’re going to be my favorite memory
  • I have made my home in the bend of a question mark
  • We are but a whisper; but oh, what a chorus
  • Share your gooey nugget center for others to chew on
  • Sorrow, sister of joy
  • But someday you will be the one who ignites the blaze in another person’s heart that won’t ever be put out again
  • There is no such thing as an ordinary life
  • A moonbeam winked at you
  • Fitting in is for sardines
  • Damn the gatekeepers
  • Your words grew feathers and floated off each night between the bars
  • Gentle wishes for one another
  • Sharing yourself is an act of service
  • You don’t need to be perfect, you just need to be gentle – with others and yourself
  • A blank page is an empty universe you get to create
  • You are here to be a lamplighter that hands out little bits of your flame to ensure the rest of the world doesn’t exist in darkness
  • Lost in the weeds of your heart
  • I want bees to rest on my crown
  • Good morning new perspective, I haven’t met you yet
  • An unsettling quiet, even with all the elephants in the room
  • You were created to make us gasp
  • Your heart creates a park bench where you and others can meet
  • We’re all just beads on a prayer bracelet
  • The first bird of the day to be brave and break the silence

As the month started, I sat behind a car with the license plate MO FUNNER that seemed to confirm my choice of quote and I absorbed the vibe for the month.

At the beach I absorbed how nature seemed to externalize my internal as it was our first family beach vacation without dad. You see hurricane Debby slowly moved over our week. Each day a circulating pattern of rainbands, pressure drops of stillness, sun breakthroughs, 40+ mph wind gusts, and vivid warm pink sunsets. My body echoing Mother Nature’s emotions, or she mine: tense, calm, sad, peaceful, tears, wound up, happy, hurt, laughter. All a swirl like the vanilla/chocolate soft serve ice cream, a family tradition at the beach. But as the storm settled, what my body absorbed and felt was gratitude. Our family was together in a sacred space with decades of memories of love to cherish and build on.

Later in August I cruised down I-81 over the rolling hills of the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia behind the license plate FUN AW8S. I absorbed a favorite – and sacred – activity of mine:  the road trip. Open road, good weather, snack bag, singing to the sky with my sunroof open, savoring the journey, and not concerned about the destination. Freedom. As the hills grew taller, the distance between my ears and shoulders grew as well… my body unwinding.

I stopped on my trip to give two cases of prosecco to Mary Baldwin University’s new President to help him recognize staff and faculty’s “golden moments” as they work to step into the “next” of the school’s ever-changing legacy of liberal arts education. Much like Superman soaking the sun’s rays to regain his power, I stood on the campus hilltop where I graduated when it was an all-women’s college and absorbed potential. Again, my body shifted, softened. My corporate work edges, personal expectations, and mental exhaustion absorbed by the earth beneath my feet.

By month’s end, I found myself standing under the universe in the black of night as countless stars winked at me. There was no absorbing, it was consumption. The Universe absorbed me… a melting, perhaps a thawing, as my deep sighs, concerns, big fat slow rolling tears, appreciation, awe, and all the mortar that shored up my internal wall of worries dissipated.

Spent. Weightless. Open. Relieved.

I stood.

Absorbed in the grace and glory of it all.

pink couch

July 2024 Quote: Be Grateful for Whoever Comes…

As I set up my calendar for the month, I select a quote I’ve found that speaks to me. I write it in my planner and leave space below it to capture phrases I hear or read that speak to me and relate to the quote. I found this practice centers me throughout the month, and helps me be more present in my conversations, meetings, and readings. For July 2024, the quote that centered me was: Be grateful for whoever comes because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.  

Near the end of COVID, I became a certified mindfulness facilitator. While I sought this certification to support my facilitation work, I discovered I actually needed it for myself. There are many ways you can practice mindfulness… breathing, walking, listening, and recently as part of the Radiant Leader community I practiced with writing. The weekly host read “The Guest House” – a poem by Jalaluddin Rumi. Our practice was to listen to the poem, read the poem to ourselves out loud, and then read it to ourselves silently. After reading it, we were to select a word or phrase that caught our attention and write about it for eight minutes. This mindful practice in June led me to July’s quote.

Here are quotes, lyrics, and phrases that that caught my attention during the month:

  • An umbrella of peace opens around me in difficult times
  • I am because we are
  • Live fully in my God-created body
  • And you can still find peace and grow in the wild of changing times
  • We find only the world we look for
  • Justice is what love looks like in public
  • The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper
  • A God moment
  • This is my story, this is my song
  • Follow the energy
  • When the world goes mad, become wildly kind to everyone, everyone
  • There are some people who have sun inside them; They have an eternal being that sheds light and feels the sun
  • Peace is the most disturbing force in the universe
  • Gratitude is the gateway to grace
  • The adventure we were supposed to have
  • When I let my heart constantly stir like a cotton candy machine, the lighter and sweeter it becomes
  • Normal, natural, not a problem

This poem stirred me. And like many mindful practices, uncomfort showed up first—the squirm. Then I resettled, re-read,  and practiced again.

I thought about who was not there and my heart ached. Then I resettled, re-read, and practiced again.

As I sat with the poem, I realized that my difficult “visitors” in life were not alone. Each complex, unwanted thing came with several more that were supportive, delightful, compassionate, and silly. This mindful moment enabled me to review my last six months and see all the bright lights around me.

Unexpected conversations. Steady friends. Surprise adventures. New connections. Moments of peace. Each visitor a nightlight, a warm glow, or a bright beacon—blessings that lit my path forward.

My mind full, I realized loss and love coexist – and it’s not just good, it’s welcome.

“… The dark thought, the shame, the malice, meet them at the door laughing, and invite them in.”

below a beach pier

June 2024 Quote: Create What You Wish Existed

As I set up my calendar for the month, I select a quote I’ve found that speaks to me. I write it in my planner and leave space below it to capture phrases I hear or read that speak to me and relate to the quote. I found this practice centers me throughout the month, and helps me be more present in my conversations, meetings, and readings. For June 2024, the quote that centered me was: Create what you wish existed.  

We each exist in different large, complex systems. Work, church, school, and family to name a few. But we often forget about the most complex system in which we reside, ourselves. A mindfulness practice I participated in as a member of the Radiant Leader community brought my own system into a new focus… and just how much I can create and recreate it.

Here are quotes, lyrics, and phrases that that caught my attention during the month:

  • Your alignment comes from your foundation
  • Some how grace has found me, and I to let her in
  • Just like that, your life can change with what the angels send
  • Body and heart are already free and the door is wide open
  • I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set attention him free
  • More space
  • He did not know he could not fly, so he did
  • The joy of every day
  • We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to love, to share
  • No one has a hard time listening to something that is interesting
  • I am enough; I can make anywhere home
  • He’s one of those who knows that life is just a leap of faith; Spread your arms and hold your breath; Always trust your cape.
  • To be, beyond

There I was on a Friday morning with several other Radiant Leaders on a monthly Zoom call exploring. While we often explore change and leadership, that Friday, I sat there exploring a thick, damn cold, melting ice cube that was laying in the palm of my right hand.

I explored my mind: Did I just want to drop off the call? Did others think this was odd. Why was I doing this? What if I sat here and just watched and listened? How long is this going to go on?

Since I wished to learn and be more mindful of how I show up and respond to those around me, I decided I would do the mindful practice fully and hold on to that ice cube, no matter what. I continued the practice.

I explored my body: The cold of my palm and fingers from the ice cube. The wet skin from the melt of the ice cube. The tightness of my fingers from the cold. The tenseness of my shoulders as I focused on what was happening in my hand. The warmth in other parts of my body that I sought to mentally move to my hand. My skin getting pink from the cold.

Since I wished to be more present in the big and small moments of my life, I settled in and accepted each bodily sensation. I continued the practice.

I explored disruption when the host guided us to keep the ice cube in our right hand and start to rub the pointer and thumb together in our left hand. Because of my fixation on the ice cube, it took me a minute to calibrate and get the fingers in my left hand moving – a bit like a rub your stomach and pat your head moment for me.

Since I wanted to see where all this led and how it might help me be a better me, I sat there, ice cube in my right hand and fingers rubbing in the left. I continued the practice.

I sat there with my brain and body wrestling and chatting. Unsettled busy bodies. Then space opened up between the comments, and long, calm pauses filled my system. My left fingers took away the overwhelm of the ice cube in my right, and an equilibrium occurred. My body relaxed. Controlled focus shifted to curious acceptance. I continued the practice.

Upon reflection, I learned my brain is quick to distract, discourage, and dig in (as I never thought about putting the cube down like others). I realized my body is a better radar for my system than my thoughts. I came to embrace the patience of practice. I came to understand I can create peace in my system.

What do you wish create?