Lisa, I read your newsletter every week. It’s one of the rituals I look forward to every Sunday. This week’s newsletter made me cry, seeing my own reflection in your words. It’s often that way for me. Today, several parts really struck me, but the thing that brought me tears of joy was the middle picture of your daughter, with her hands raised into the air in joy, wonder, and awe. To see the world through those pure eyes and experiences. To try to remember to be open to having a young, curious heart towards these simple moments in our daily lives. Thank you for sharing parts of yourself and your life with us, and also constantly leading us back to ourselves as students of our own lives and experiences and knowing. Your work in the world, reminding us all that we are humans having a human experience, is so powerful and so needed. Sending you love! ❤️
Something I wrote a little while ago about climbing, it is similar to what you say about practice...
Healing is a lot like climbing. You approach a route realizing you have no idea how to actually get off the start holds, but somehow your body eventually figures it out and then maybe you’re able to make the next move but you can’t make the move after that. So you have to start over, but it isn’t a complete reset, because your body remembers how to do the first couple of moves. And eventually you piece together the whole climb running into moves your body has no idea how to execute but eventually it … just… does it… and sometimes you’re not even sure how you did it, or what exactly you changed in order to get the next hold. And slowly over time, moves that felt incredibly difficult you can do with ease now. Your body is resourced with strength and technique. Nonetheless, there are still moves and other climbs that have stumped you and your back in a place believing there is NO WAY you’ll ever be able to make that move, grab that hold, piece it all together; yet, you do. Healing feels a lot like that too. There are a lot of attempts, a lot of trying and trying again, a lot of getting stuck, a lot of “aha” moments, high gravity days, and days that seem to just click. And sometimes it feels like you’ve forgotten how to climb all together, you can’t even get off the start holds. But I guess the only thing you really need to know, the only thing you need to do, is to keep climbing.
I’m in a particularly uncomfortable season of waiting right now, yet also recognize the perpetuity of it - there’s always something we’re waiting for! I love the questions you’ve posed. This one in particular: “When I inevitably stray from here, what helps me return?” I had one of those couch days yesterday, with a side of existential crisis, and it’s so hard to to be gentle with myself in those moments. I wish I wouldn’t get discouraged like that. I wish that I could remember that perfection or arrival or hustle have nothing to do with what I value. Why can’t we just live our values consistently?! *shakes fist at sky and slumps back down on the couch*. What I keep coming back to - which I just love about your reflections - is that the practice is the point. And practice helps us live our values.
I’m grateful for your voice, Lisa. Your reflections are continually a balm to this weary traveler. It is no small thing.
I love and appreciate these reminders - especially today- so much! Lately I have found myself longing for just being here now and completely feeling it. I lost it with the “busy” (I hate the word) life. So #2 really hit a chord here. So I am setting an intention to try and be here (live it, feel it, be in it) at least 15 minutes a day for the next week. Thank you!
Thank you for all of these beautiful reminders. I find myself the same when taking (our neighbor’s) dog on a walk--he’s so slow because he’s exploring everything. But I want to be slow too. It’s a hard balance. And these links! What a treasure trove. Exactly what I needed this Sunday morning 💛🙏
Lisa, this is a masterpiece of a newsletter that resonated fully with me. I took some time this weekend to reflect on how March has gone and what I intend for April. I described March in one sentence of "stressed and lost" and wrote that in April, I want to resume my practices of meditation, journaling and moving my body joyfully - all that have either fallen by the wayside or been a struggle lately. I also wrote that my intention for April is to be and enjoy the present. Too often, I think I put pressure on myself because I'm not reaching "the other side" or my destination fast enough. But what does that pressure do but add stress to my own psyche? Nobody else has questioned why I haven't "reached my destination yet." Your story about getting frustrated with your daughter reminded me of my morning walks with my dogs - I easily get frustrated when I think they're taking too long to do their business instead of treasuring this time with them and following their lead in being curious and simply experiencing the great outdoors - all of the sights, sounds and smells. All of this to say is thank you for the reminders and insights - I love when the universe continually tells me similar messages in different places. It's clearly telling me to slow down and enjoy the present and the process.
it seems our only task, really, is to live with a purposefulness and a gladness that the present moment is an ever-unfolding song announcing our responsibility for its noticing.
Mmmmm the questions to ponder. Delicious. Your writing is always thought provoking and engaging but there was something electric about the way you phrased those questions to ponder.
I'm a planner. I can be in flow as I de-clutter and plan ahead. I believe I am still in the now of things as I plan. It gives me juice. I have had periods of time where I have been completely present but maybe stagnant. But it never lasts without hours of daily meditation. And life's too short. So I give myself the grace to be the person who does a bit of planning because it makes me feel better.
I've been challenged lately by my husband having an acute/chronic back condition. It's gone on for 8 weeks now and we don't know yet if it's going to get better or if he'll have to investigate surgery. I have been through a rolller coaster of emotions but mainly fear. Also frustration that we haven't planned adequately for this unexpected event. Even though I have wanted to. And even though we never know what's around the corner.
My husband is an in the now kind of person. Puts one foot in front of the other. Does what's in front of his nose. His mantra is, 'we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.' I think he doesn't notice when we get half way across the bridge. ;)
And I am waiting... waiting to see what's next by carrying on with the now. All the itty bitty daily domestics that still have to be carried out. Or do they?
Loved the letter. Some thoughts and questions arose…
Anticipating “events” is my default, and that often brings anxiety - like some boulder in my path. Anticipating “practice” reforms anxiety into something more like curiosity. I like your idea about life being a series of practices!
“Behind the scenes” - yes. Like what happens in the soil before a mushroom pops through - a hidden microcosm.
Recent years as I delve there, I notice a recurring challenge: many of my human microresponses to events - just happen - and even though I get to choose what, if anything, to do about them… their ever-present nature can wear me out. Also, the continual letting go of misguided knee jerks can bring me down in spirit, as I feel alone, and wonder if there is hope. Meditation always helps… sometimes it seems like I need 12 hours of it daily :-)!
I agree that “behind the scenes” human stuff is the undercurrent we all experience. I love when authors weave it into stories or talk about it openly. I think they reveal us to ourselves, and teach us, if we are willing. Thank you for writing about it, Lisa!
"I asked this because I am in a particular period of waiting and I’ve found myself wildly impatient, almost bursting and just wanting to know what’s next already"
Me too, Lisa. Have been for a good bit now, at least in one area of my life I really care about. It feels super hard sometimes! Thanks for sharing yourself here.
Lisa, I read your newsletter every week. It’s one of the rituals I look forward to every Sunday. This week’s newsletter made me cry, seeing my own reflection in your words. It’s often that way for me. Today, several parts really struck me, but the thing that brought me tears of joy was the middle picture of your daughter, with her hands raised into the air in joy, wonder, and awe. To see the world through those pure eyes and experiences. To try to remember to be open to having a young, curious heart towards these simple moments in our daily lives. Thank you for sharing parts of yourself and your life with us, and also constantly leading us back to ourselves as students of our own lives and experiences and knowing. Your work in the world, reminding us all that we are humans having a human experience, is so powerful and so needed. Sending you love! ❤️
Thank you! As a chronic look-forwarder instead of present-enjoyer, I really needed to see this
“I want to hold the behind-the-scenes as largely as I hold what is seen.” This part.
Your words might be the most gentle and soothing on the planet. I look forward to Sundays because of your newsletters ❤️
Something I wrote a little while ago about climbing, it is similar to what you say about practice...
Healing is a lot like climbing. You approach a route realizing you have no idea how to actually get off the start holds, but somehow your body eventually figures it out and then maybe you’re able to make the next move but you can’t make the move after that. So you have to start over, but it isn’t a complete reset, because your body remembers how to do the first couple of moves. And eventually you piece together the whole climb running into moves your body has no idea how to execute but eventually it … just… does it… and sometimes you’re not even sure how you did it, or what exactly you changed in order to get the next hold. And slowly over time, moves that felt incredibly difficult you can do with ease now. Your body is resourced with strength and technique. Nonetheless, there are still moves and other climbs that have stumped you and your back in a place believing there is NO WAY you’ll ever be able to make that move, grab that hold, piece it all together; yet, you do. Healing feels a lot like that too. There are a lot of attempts, a lot of trying and trying again, a lot of getting stuck, a lot of “aha” moments, high gravity days, and days that seem to just click. And sometimes it feels like you’ve forgotten how to climb all together, you can’t even get off the start holds. But I guess the only thing you really need to know, the only thing you need to do, is to keep climbing.
I’m in a particularly uncomfortable season of waiting right now, yet also recognize the perpetuity of it - there’s always something we’re waiting for! I love the questions you’ve posed. This one in particular: “When I inevitably stray from here, what helps me return?” I had one of those couch days yesterday, with a side of existential crisis, and it’s so hard to to be gentle with myself in those moments. I wish I wouldn’t get discouraged like that. I wish that I could remember that perfection or arrival or hustle have nothing to do with what I value. Why can’t we just live our values consistently?! *shakes fist at sky and slumps back down on the couch*. What I keep coming back to - which I just love about your reflections - is that the practice is the point. And practice helps us live our values.
I’m grateful for your voice, Lisa. Your reflections are continually a balm to this weary traveler. It is no small thing.
I love and appreciate these reminders - especially today- so much! Lately I have found myself longing for just being here now and completely feeling it. I lost it with the “busy” (I hate the word) life. So #2 really hit a chord here. So I am setting an intention to try and be here (live it, feel it, be in it) at least 15 minutes a day for the next week. Thank you!
Thank you for all of these beautiful reminders. I find myself the same when taking (our neighbor’s) dog on a walk--he’s so slow because he’s exploring everything. But I want to be slow too. It’s a hard balance. And these links! What a treasure trove. Exactly what I needed this Sunday morning 💛🙏
Many lovely takeaways in this. The title is going to be a post-it note reminder for me🤍
Lisa, this is a masterpiece of a newsletter that resonated fully with me. I took some time this weekend to reflect on how March has gone and what I intend for April. I described March in one sentence of "stressed and lost" and wrote that in April, I want to resume my practices of meditation, journaling and moving my body joyfully - all that have either fallen by the wayside or been a struggle lately. I also wrote that my intention for April is to be and enjoy the present. Too often, I think I put pressure on myself because I'm not reaching "the other side" or my destination fast enough. But what does that pressure do but add stress to my own psyche? Nobody else has questioned why I haven't "reached my destination yet." Your story about getting frustrated with your daughter reminded me of my morning walks with my dogs - I easily get frustrated when I think they're taking too long to do their business instead of treasuring this time with them and following their lead in being curious and simply experiencing the great outdoors - all of the sights, sounds and smells. All of this to say is thank you for the reminders and insights - I love when the universe continually tells me similar messages in different places. It's clearly telling me to slow down and enjoy the present and the process.
Beautiful! Thank you for writing and sharing this, love the pics of your little one, especially the one in the middle! Arms open, yes!
"attention without devotion is just a report"
it seems our only task, really, is to live with a purposefulness and a gladness that the present moment is an ever-unfolding song announcing our responsibility for its noticing.
thank you for the reminder.
Mmmmm the questions to ponder. Delicious. Your writing is always thought provoking and engaging but there was something electric about the way you phrased those questions to ponder.
I'm a planner. I can be in flow as I de-clutter and plan ahead. I believe I am still in the now of things as I plan. It gives me juice. I have had periods of time where I have been completely present but maybe stagnant. But it never lasts without hours of daily meditation. And life's too short. So I give myself the grace to be the person who does a bit of planning because it makes me feel better.
I've been challenged lately by my husband having an acute/chronic back condition. It's gone on for 8 weeks now and we don't know yet if it's going to get better or if he'll have to investigate surgery. I have been through a rolller coaster of emotions but mainly fear. Also frustration that we haven't planned adequately for this unexpected event. Even though I have wanted to. And even though we never know what's around the corner.
My husband is an in the now kind of person. Puts one foot in front of the other. Does what's in front of his nose. His mantra is, 'we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.' I think he doesn't notice when we get half way across the bridge. ;)
And I am waiting... waiting to see what's next by carrying on with the now. All the itty bitty daily domestics that still have to be carried out. Or do they?
Loved the letter. Some thoughts and questions arose…
Anticipating “events” is my default, and that often brings anxiety - like some boulder in my path. Anticipating “practice” reforms anxiety into something more like curiosity. I like your idea about life being a series of practices!
“Behind the scenes” - yes. Like what happens in the soil before a mushroom pops through - a hidden microcosm.
Recent years as I delve there, I notice a recurring challenge: many of my human microresponses to events - just happen - and even though I get to choose what, if anything, to do about them… their ever-present nature can wear me out. Also, the continual letting go of misguided knee jerks can bring me down in spirit, as I feel alone, and wonder if there is hope. Meditation always helps… sometimes it seems like I need 12 hours of it daily :-)!
I agree that “behind the scenes” human stuff is the undercurrent we all experience. I love when authors weave it into stories or talk about it openly. I think they reveal us to ourselves, and teach us, if we are willing. Thank you for writing about it, Lisa!
"I asked this because I am in a particular period of waiting and I’ve found myself wildly impatient, almost bursting and just wanting to know what’s next already"
Me too, Lisa. Have been for a good bit now, at least in one area of my life I really care about. It feels super hard sometimes! Thanks for sharing yourself here.