Possibility feels more possible when hope feels less possible. Like this acceptance that yes, it is possible for things to change vs. I believe things will change.
Reading through your reflection questions of possibility (and recently with my own reflections and conversations with friends), I've been chuckling because I would have never thought where I am today was one, possible, but two just where and who and what I'd be doing, but do any of us have that idea? Do any of us in the present moment think back to our younger selves, and think, "ahh yes, this is exactly what and where and who I imagined to be." Maybe. But never would I thought I'd be living in Moscow, Idaho trying to finish up my dissertation, working as a research assistant, teaching college courses. Wild. And moving forward still seems as much as a mystery as it always has. What is next? I "should" know this by now, I "should" know what I want to do by now. But I don't. My values and perspective on life have changed so much since I entered the field of performance psychology. So I'm a Ph.D. candidate who now doesn't even know if I want to stay in the field I've been pursuing for 12 years (or not in the same way as I originally wanted to). But I think a lot is possible. I'm extremely passionate about movement, and I want to help people incorporate movement into their lives and I'm excited about the possible opportunities that could arise. I don't know what's next, and am trying to let go of the "shoulds" and lean into what is possible and taking the opportunities as they come.
As always, thank you Lisa. You are so greatly appreciated.
Thank you for sharing this today, it hit home in a profound and tender way. I've been trying to negotiate a compromise between attending the last day of a beloved local music festival and the limits of my post covid/long covid body. The last few days have been a delicate dance between the fear and frustration of living in an unfamiliar and unpredictable vessel, and the joy and warmth of connections with the people and places I've missed so much. There has been a tinge of sadness to have familiar places and routines be disrupted by pain and fatigue that shows up without warning. But reading your words this morning is helping me to go into this with a sense of possibility and a gentle reminder that even routine things don't need to be the same for them to be meaningful and enjoyable.
I needed this today. I’m being shown in different ways right now that I need to make some changes in the way I show up for my business and share my art with the world. The most recent was this morning - a cancellation of a show that was supposed to happen next weekend. I know I’m on the precipice of a big shift, and that the shift is part of the journey that is leading me to something good, but it’s still feels a bit tough to navigate. Thank you for this. It feels timely for me. xo
Absolutely beautiful words as always Lisa. I'm so grateful for the work you do, you really manage to crystallise these ideas in a way that's perfect to return to for reference again and again. I needed a reminder of possibility today - so often I feel stuck in endless cycles of behaviour that I know are hurting me and my loved ones, but I don't feel as though it's possible to change, and I sink further into this state of suspended grief and guilt. Really radically accepting possibility is a path out of that state and I appreciate it so much.
“Maybe you don’t need to know how or when — maybe you don’t need to change it all right this second — maybe you don’t need to figure out how to control or manage everything. Maybe, right now, you just need to choose to orient toward possibility.”
Wise words that I need to remember! It’s so hard for me to orient toward possibility right now, when so much seems hopeless.
However, I have been in dark places and difficult situations before and survived and gone on to have some wonderful experiences.
Your post brought to mind a book I just bought. I hesitate to recommend something I haven’t read yet, but I did hear the author speak and liked what she had to say.
The book is “Make Space for Magic” by Patty Lennon, and it has lots of great reviews on Amazon. The Kindle version is only about $5.
This post resonates so deeply with me. Today, feeling the weight of fear and doom, I have been sitting in front of a window full of trees and birds and feeling myself held. And, so akin to your possibility, reaching out to trust and humility as a resource 🙏
Thankyou for sharing this Lisa. As I sit in the deeply uncomfortable space of needing to figure out a next move, a new career, as my current role has been wound up - I’m digesting, balancing and ruminating what could be, what I want, what’s possible... all the while trying to remain calm and work through it bit by bit - choosing to not fall in a heap.
These words rang true: “orienting toward something greater, something more meaningful, something more nourishing” and I’m going to journal on those prompts you provided. Many thanks for sharing (and I’m so glad you got out to your favourite place with your daughter, how special, monumental).
Possibility feels more possible when hope feels less possible. Like this acceptance that yes, it is possible for things to change vs. I believe things will change.
Reading through your reflection questions of possibility (and recently with my own reflections and conversations with friends), I've been chuckling because I would have never thought where I am today was one, possible, but two just where and who and what I'd be doing, but do any of us have that idea? Do any of us in the present moment think back to our younger selves, and think, "ahh yes, this is exactly what and where and who I imagined to be." Maybe. But never would I thought I'd be living in Moscow, Idaho trying to finish up my dissertation, working as a research assistant, teaching college courses. Wild. And moving forward still seems as much as a mystery as it always has. What is next? I "should" know this by now, I "should" know what I want to do by now. But I don't. My values and perspective on life have changed so much since I entered the field of performance psychology. So I'm a Ph.D. candidate who now doesn't even know if I want to stay in the field I've been pursuing for 12 years (or not in the same way as I originally wanted to). But I think a lot is possible. I'm extremely passionate about movement, and I want to help people incorporate movement into their lives and I'm excited about the possible opportunities that could arise. I don't know what's next, and am trying to let go of the "shoulds" and lean into what is possible and taking the opportunities as they come.
As always, thank you Lisa. You are so greatly appreciated.
Thank you for sharing this today, it hit home in a profound and tender way. I've been trying to negotiate a compromise between attending the last day of a beloved local music festival and the limits of my post covid/long covid body. The last few days have been a delicate dance between the fear and frustration of living in an unfamiliar and unpredictable vessel, and the joy and warmth of connections with the people and places I've missed so much. There has been a tinge of sadness to have familiar places and routines be disrupted by pain and fatigue that shows up without warning. But reading your words this morning is helping me to go into this with a sense of possibility and a gentle reminder that even routine things don't need to be the same for them to be meaningful and enjoyable.
I needed this today. I’m being shown in different ways right now that I need to make some changes in the way I show up for my business and share my art with the world. The most recent was this morning - a cancellation of a show that was supposed to happen next weekend. I know I’m on the precipice of a big shift, and that the shift is part of the journey that is leading me to something good, but it’s still feels a bit tough to navigate. Thank you for this. It feels timely for me. xo
Absolutely beautiful words as always Lisa. I'm so grateful for the work you do, you really manage to crystallise these ideas in a way that's perfect to return to for reference again and again. I needed a reminder of possibility today - so often I feel stuck in endless cycles of behaviour that I know are hurting me and my loved ones, but I don't feel as though it's possible to change, and I sink further into this state of suspended grief and guilt. Really radically accepting possibility is a path out of that state and I appreciate it so much.
“Maybe you don’t need to know how or when — maybe you don’t need to change it all right this second — maybe you don’t need to figure out how to control or manage everything. Maybe, right now, you just need to choose to orient toward possibility.”
Wise words that I need to remember! It’s so hard for me to orient toward possibility right now, when so much seems hopeless.
However, I have been in dark places and difficult situations before and survived and gone on to have some wonderful experiences.
Your post brought to mind a book I just bought. I hesitate to recommend something I haven’t read yet, but I did hear the author speak and liked what she had to say.
The book is “Make Space for Magic” by Patty Lennon, and it has lots of great reviews on Amazon. The Kindle version is only about $5.
This post resonates so deeply with me. Today, feeling the weight of fear and doom, I have been sitting in front of a window full of trees and birds and feeling myself held. And, so akin to your possibility, reaching out to trust and humility as a resource 🙏
Thank you for this. And I adore Jon Hopkins!
Thankyou for sharing this Lisa. As I sit in the deeply uncomfortable space of needing to figure out a next move, a new career, as my current role has been wound up - I’m digesting, balancing and ruminating what could be, what I want, what’s possible... all the while trying to remain calm and work through it bit by bit - choosing to not fall in a heap.
These words rang true: “orienting toward something greater, something more meaningful, something more nourishing” and I’m going to journal on those prompts you provided. Many thanks for sharing (and I’m so glad you got out to your favourite place with your daughter, how special, monumental).