I’m excited to introduce you to my second guest on the “Let go of the Ground” series.
Almost as soon as we met on Twitter (about a year ago), Desiree Adaway and I started joking that we must be “sisters from another mother”. We have a lot in common, and at the time we met, we were on very similar journeys. We were both leaving leadership positions in non-profit to launch our own businesses. Desiree now serves as a consultant, working with organizations and individuals who want to be change-makers. Her work inspires me and reminds me that there are good people in the world working for positive change.
Once again, I’m only sharing a portion of our conversation. In this piece, Desiree shares a personal story of when she – at the tender age of 16 – learned her first big lesson in letting go of the ground.
If you want to see the rest of the interview and the wisdom lessons Desiree has learned on her journey (and you’ll just have to trust me on this – it’s AMAZING – at one point, when she was wiping tears from her eyes, she accused me of being Barbara Walters), you’ll have to wait for my final offering on this. I’ve decided I’m going to offer something that I’m calling an “e-course” (for brevity), but is more like an “e-basket full of goodies for your transformation journey”. Check out what I’m working on so far! (To be honest, I feel like I’m letting go of the ground with this whole venture, because it is emerging so beautifully and seemingly out of my control that I just have to trust the process.) To stay informed as this progresses, add your email to my list (in that box on the right side of the screen).
Yesterday I launched my series “Let go of the ground & taste the sky” about learning to surrender the way a caterpillar surrenders to the chrysalis in order to step fully into the butterfly she’s meant to be. I shared one of my stories, and now I’m busy gathering stories of other people who’ve learned to let go of the ground.
Today I’m very excited to introduce you to my first guest. Jen Louden is one of my favourite people to hang out with on Twitter. She is genuine, friendly, optimistic and committed to making the world a better place. She has written six books and has taught all over the world. She has recently launched a brand new experiment called “Savour & Serve”, which I LOVE. I’m also (as I’ve mentioned a few times) a huge fan of Teach Now, the online workshop she teaches together with Michele Lisenbury Christensen. The first call of Teach Now is on Thursday (and it’s FREE!), and if you haven’t signed up for it yet, I’d highly recommend it.
I had a delightful conversation with Jen yesterday. Here’s a part of that conversation. I’m saving the rest of it for the special offering (e-course, or whatever I end up calling it) in which I’ll be inviting people to join me as we learn to let go of the ground together. (If you want to get the details on that, add your email to the box on the right – and download my free e-book while you’re at it. I’ll be sharing the information with my email list first.)
“How do you get to be so free?” Caterpillar asks wistfully of Butterfly.
“Surrender,” Butterfly whispers as she flutters by.
“But… I’ve read all the books, taken all the classes, and I just can’t seem to get off the ground.”
“Surrender.”
“What do you mean – surrender? Surrender to what?”
“To the Mystery. To your Creator. To your own DNA.”
“How do I do that?” Caterpillar frowns.
“Climb up in that tree, let go of the branch, and spin.”
“Spin?”
“Yes, spin.”
“But I don’t know how to spin. Do I need to take a course? Is there a manual?”
“You’ll know. Once you’re up there on the branch.”
“I’ll know? How will I know?”
“It’s written in your DNA.”
“What happens next? Do I have to spin my own wings?”
“No, silly,” Butterfly giggles. “You spin a cocoon.”
“A cocoon? I’ve never heard of that before. What do I do with it once I’ve spun it?”
“You don’t do anything. You just wait. Inside the cocoon.”
“What good does waiting do? I have too much work to do to sit around waiting in a cocoon. I have housework to do and children to feed and… well, that’s just ridiculous.” Caterpillar turns away, her eyes back on the ground.
“Well, then you’d better give up your dream of flying, because that’s the only way to get up here.” Butterfly’s wings carry her a little higher.
Caterpillar glances back at the sky. Her eyes fill with tears. “But… I really want to fly. Can you tell me a little more? Please. What comes next?”
“The hard part. The surrender.”
“So we’re back to surrender again. That doesn’t seem very helpful. And it’s kind of confusing. What am I surrendering?”
“Everything you ever knew. Every cell of your body. Every story you’ve ever told yourself.”
“I have to give up EVERYTHING?! Isn’t that asking a bit much?”
“Yes, but it’s worth it.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Oh yes. It hurts.”
“How do you handle the pain?”
“You won’t like the answer.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“Surrender. And trust. You have to surrender to the pain and trust the process. You have to give up control and let your body turn to an ugly gooey mushy substance while you wait for transformation to happen. Your friends (those who haven’t learned to spin yet) will turn away because they won’t recognize you. It will be the hardest thing you’ll ever have to do.”
“I don’t know if I can do it. I can’t handle that much pain.”
“You can.”
“But…”
“Do you want to taste the sky?”
“Oh yes. I really, really do.”
“Then you have to let go of the ground.”
*********
I’m excited to announce a new series called “Let go of the ground & taste the sky”. I’m gathering stories of people who’ve learned what it means to surrender (in big or small ways) to the Mystery. I’ll be sharing those stories here in the coming weeks. To get this off the ground, here’s one of my own stories…
p.s. If you’re learning to surrender, I’m cooking up an offering (I hesitate to call it an e-course, but it’s something like that) where we can learn and practice together. Look for details soon!
This week I’ve been working on my book, and a few other creative assignments, and so I haven’t been blogging much. In the absence of a blog post, here’s a little piece from the book I’m working on. It wasn’t originally supposed to be about feminine wisdom, but it seems to be an emerging theme nonetheless. Books have a way of making up their own minds about what they’re going to be.
It’s not that I’ve replaced my understanding of a masculine God with an entirely feminine one, it’s just that I’ve learned that there are many ways for God to be present in the world and in my life. The feminine spiritual energy that can be experienced through labyrinths or body work is different from the masculine energy of logic or ration or debate or even language.
I think that’s one of the reasons why we mostly read about God in masculine form. The feminine form is much more difficult to put into words, much more mysterious, and much harder to fit into a box. It is also harder to trust because it dances with mystery. It must be experienced in a visceral, spiral, embodied, non-linear, non-rational way, and that presents a danger that many of us would rather avoid.
One of the things I’ve learned in my self-employment journey so far, is that almost every day, often several times a day, I have to ask myself “why not me?”
“I wish someone would compile the ideas of a bunch of people who’ve given some thought to feminine wisdom. WHY NOT ME?“
“There are lots of people who could benefit from a deeply personal book about losing a stillborn baby but gaining a deeper spirituality. WHY NOT ME?“
“There’s an amazing conference coming up and they could really use a little help with their social media promotion. WHY NOT ME?“
“Somebody should teach leaders to think a little more like artists. WHY NOT ME?“
It doesn’t come naturally, this question. My default position is to think “surely someone else is more competent at it than I am. Maybe once I’ve read a few more books or taken a few more courses, or had a few more things published – THEN I’ll be ready to take on this task.”
We limit ourselves, don’t we? We assume our ideas aren’t smart enough, unique enough, or educated enough. We think we need a masters degree before we have a right to speak with authority. We think people would be better off hearing from the REAL experts – you know, those with agents and books on the best-seller list.
And then there are the fear gremlins – the voices that whisper “but if you get a book published, people will think you’re showing off” or “what if you teach a workshop about thinking more like an artist and there’s a REAL artist in the room who tells you that you don’t have a clue?” or “what if you offend someone who’s chosen a different path than yours?” or “what if your family and friends start thinking you’re too big for your britches and they reject you?”
And yet… there’s a burning deep inside that says “your wisdom is worth sharing. Your ideas have merit. You’re smart enough for this calling.” And then there are the people who take the time to say “your words make a difference. Keep it up. I need more of what you have to offer.” And you realize that whatever it is you’ve been given to share is worth sharing, even if you only share it with a handful of people. And that it’s not about you, it’s about surrendering to what the Divine asks of you.
And every day, you make a choice to look into the mirror, smile at the fear hidden behind your eyes, and say “Why not me?”
p.s. Want to get more practice in saying “why not me?” Check out Playing Big by my friend Tara Sophia Mohr. I just know it will be amazing!
I’m excited to introduce you to my second guest on the “Let go of the Ground” series.
