Casting the net

Sometimes, before you know it, you’re cracked wide open. In a tiny whisper, you offer to the universe your readiness, and the universe responds beyond your capacity to dream.

It starts with a burst of an idea, coming out of nowhere… and yet at the same time emerging from everything you’ve ever been, everything you’ve ever thought, every person you’ve ever met. A fully formed thought that says “this is what it all means… this is what those years of practice have prepared you for.”

The practical, hard working side of you says… “it couldn’t be that easy. No-one will pay attention to something that showed up so noiselessly, so seemingly without effort or agony.” The doubting, fearful side of you says… “you won’t possibly succeed at this – why bother trying?” At the same time, though, you know that this gift is one that you have to pay attention to. The muse is calling and this time, you know you have to listen.

The seed of an idea grows and before you even say it out loud to anyone, people who cross your path begin to tell you of their deep longings, of their precious guarded gifts, of the ways that your words and paintings have inspired them, and even of the way they’ve used you as a positive example of creativity and dream-seeking in a counseling session with a client. Each of these stories feels like a little bit of magic, because each thing you hear is directly in alignment with the gift you feel called to offer up to the world.

You begin to take baby steps. You tell a few people and they applaud with their eyes and their hearts. A friend looks deep in your eyes and says “this will succeed. I have visions of you telling this story on Oprah,” and you blush, because you’ve never dared to imagine quite what she’s imagining. Your brother affirms you before you even tell him, just by reserving the webpage you’re dreaming of building for this new venture.

A friend whom you’ve never met but who feels connected to your soul in a long thin line across a border sends you an email and you feel your hands begin to shake because she is whispering your dream in your ear even though she has no inkling that you dreamed it a few days earlier. (Thank you Vicki!!)

Like they so often seem to do, a book appears in your life at just the right time (shortly after you turn 43 and write a blog post about being half way through life) and you read, “At the midstage of life, the impatience of our inner reserve begins to make itself felt in various ways: the sense that we have brought to our present work all that we can and it is time for a new challenge; a vague but pervasive feeling of discontent with the configuration of activities and relationships in our life; a growing desire to step out and allow a recurring fantasy to become reality.”

You close your eyes, clench your fists and say “okay god, I’m ready.” Your fingers relax as you let go of the net and watch it drift out across the water.

Note: I’m taking a little time away from my day job next week to spend a little time working on that net. I’ll tell you more soon.

Five years

When I started my current job, I told myself “5 years. I give this job at least 5 years.” I said that partly because I know that I’m a restless soul and up until now, my history has been about 3 years in each job. A wise mentor once told me that it takes at least 3 years to change a culture, and I think in all of those past jobs I kind of gave up at the 3 year mark when there was very little evidence of change. (It takes A LOT to change a government department – trust me.) Even though I learned a lot in almost all of those jobs, and had some great experiences, I need to be in an environment that values creativity and positive change, and mostly I wasn’t.

I also said it partly because I knew that in 5 years Marcel would have graduated from university and would be back in the workforce. I’ve always dreamed of breaking away from the 9-5 life and doing more freelance/consulting work (you can find out more about that at my website), and once our family was a little less reliant on my income, I felt I’d have a little more freedom to explore those other things.

Well, today is my 5th anniversary. I still love my job. And I am finally in an environment that values creativity and positive change (and philanthropy and global awareness and justice and a whole bunch of other things I value). And I can say, in all humility, that I have definitely impacted this organization in a positive way. Years from now, people will look back in the history of the organization and say “that changed during the time Heather was here.” Interestingly enough, change started happening in a fairly big way around the 3 year mark, which was definitely the motivation I needed to stick around.

It’s really been an incredible 5 years. Since I started here, I’ve learned a tonne about leadership, I’ve gone on some incredible adventures, I’ve managed some exciting creative projects, I’ve met amazing people, I’ve gotten to do lots of writing and photography and visioning and creating (and get paid for it!), I’ve hosted some big media events, and most of all, I’ve learned SO MUCH about my own passions and values and personal calling. Sometimes, it’s been really challenging (especially the part that involves leading a diverse team spread across the country), but mostly it’s been an amazing ride.

But… (you KNEW there was going to be a “but” didn’t you?) I’m starting to feel like I’m done. I’m starting to feel that restless feeling that I always get when it’s time to move on from something (even when that something is really good and is worth sticking around for). I’m starting to dream of other things. I’ve got a big dream project that I really want to sink my teeth into, but I need time to do it and there’s no way I can get there while holding down a full time career and trying to be a good mom and wife.

There’s still lots I can do here (and if the board approves a plan I’m submitting, I’ll be able to unfold a whole lot of new ideas and growth opportunities), so I’m pretty sure I can be happy here for awhile, but I’m just not sure if I’ll be fully satisfied if I have to wait too long to try out some of these other big dreams that seem to have camped out in my imagination. Patience is not one of my greatest strengths.

What about you? What are you dreaming about? How do you handle the waiting when the timing isn’t quite right for the unfolding of the dreams?

Taking stock

With an annual report, a report to the board, my staff’s performance appraisals, and my annual self evaluation all due (or… ahem… overdue) this week, I’ve spent alot of time taking stock of what I’ve done this past year. Even though I moan and groan a lot at this time of year (these are tedious, mind-numbing, and sometimes genuinely unhappy tasks), I’m usually rather pleased when the work is complete and I can sit back and gaze over the list of things I’ve done. It turns out (as it usually does) I’ve done a LOT of work this year and have some pretty sizable accomplishments to report. Yay me! (No wonder I’m feeling a little burnt out!)

It occured to me that perhaps there’s something to learn from this for our personal lives as well. Perhaps it would be a good idea if, once a year, we set aside some time to take stock of the past year. It doesn’t have to be big things that make the list. It could just be an accounting of all the minutiae that eats up our time day in and day out. How many soccer games have you attended this year? How many loads of laundry have passed through your hands? How many times have you vacuumed the floor? How many forms have you filled out? How many bills have you paid?

Go ahead… take stock. If I were your boss or your board of directors, what would you include on your report to me this year?

May I take your picture please?

As you can see in the post below this one, I’ve returned from my short trip to Toronto with yet another folder full of photos. My camera has become so much a part of who I am – an integral part of the way that I interact with the world. I can get completely lost in the moment, wandering around a new place, or discovering newness in an old place, when I view the world through my lens.

On my office wall, I have a series of photos of people I have have had the pleasure of meeting in India, Bangladesh, Kenya, Tanzania, and Ethiopia. If you were to visit me, I could tell you a story of each one of them. When I need a little distraction or creative breathing space, I stare up at my wall and get lost in the stories I’ve brought home – stories of girls dancing in the setting sun, a laughing farmer telling us how he’d survived a flood, strong women with the dirt of rice fields beneath their fingers – stories that have transformed the way I see the world.

One of my favourite blogs is Shutter Sisters, a space where many people who know what it feels like to be in love with a camera share their stories and favourite images. I have the honour of having a guest spot in that lovely space today. Go on over and visit if you want to learn the story behind this photo:

How to turn a business trip into a retreat

1. Ignore all those “big box” homogeneous business hotels perched on a strip of fast moving freeway close to the airport.
2. Find a quiet bed and breakfast or old restored inn in a quiet neighbourhood with lots of green space and plenty of character homes.

3. It’s preferable if your B&B host is named James and he’s one of the most pleasant individuals you’ve ever met.

4. It’s even more preferable if James remembers you from the last visit and he prepares tea for your breakfast before you even ask. He might even throw a little coconut in your french toast because he remembers that you liked it last time he made it that way.

5. Avoid the temptation to turn on the TV. In some B&Bs they might help with that by not even providing TVs.

6. Wander. All over the place. Wander with a heavy dose of “wonder”. Up and down quaint streets with interesting shops, through parks with flowering bushes, through art galleries and book stores, and down back alleys with brick walls lined with ivy.

7. If it’s summer time, and your B&B has a luscious romantic garden, enjoy it. Soak in the scent of lilacs.
8. Take pictures of leaves. Let the colours work magic in your heart.
8. Read good books – preferably the kinds of books that will cause a shift somewhere deep inside you.
9. Write. Poems, journal entries, blog posts. Just write. Anything.

10. Eat good, wholesome food. Sushi, Thai… whatever your heart desires. Find a local hole-in-the wall with lots of character and cooks and servers that will delight in pleasing you.

11. Do lots of people-watching – on the subway, in the market, at the art galleries. Enjoy the beauty and diversity of the people you encounter.

12. Find water. Rivers, lakes, streams, fountains. Sit by it and let it replenish your spirit.

13. Just be. Quietly. Find nourishment in the stillness.

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