today, i made you a one minute visual meditation.

you can also wander over to youtube to watch it

sit back, relax, and let the ocean soothe you.

For one thing, it hasn’t happened yet.

For another, it doesn’t involve travel.

But it is the story of a fearful adventure.

One of the many ideas that takes up space in my head is a photo series. The working title is “Dear Atlas, I’m sorry I loved William Wegman”. My vision involves a series of photos of people and weimaraners in which the people are beautifully and creatively costumed and the weimaraners are beautifully and simply themselves.

If you’ve been around for a while, you probably know that the idea was inspired by my love for William Wegman’s photos as well as by my dear Atlas and his extreme distaste for anything resembling a costume, like hats or antlers or twinkly lights.

My vision is clear. I know just the right photographer to bring the idea to life. My sense is that the idea itself is fun and creative and clever and has a great deal of potential.

And yet I have not done anything with the idea at all.

I tell myself that I’m not doing anything with it because the time isn’t right, because I have more important things to work on, because I’m not inspired.

In truth, it has nothing to do with any of that.

The real reason I am not working on the idea is fear: I am afraid to be the person I would have to become in order to execute it.

I like ideas that involve just me. This idea does not. I would want to find other people with weimaraners to participate. I would need to crowd-source the money. I would want to ask William Wegman for ideas.

I like ideas that are small and manageable. This idea is not. It involves other people and clever stubborn energetic weimaraners. I don’t know what the end result of my vision should be (a book? prints?) which is something I would need to know in order to decide on funding reward options.

I like being the one behind the camera, not the one in front of it, and I am not particularly fond of costumes.

In order to execute my idea, I would need to grow, to become bigger and better. I would need to become more visible. These are not bad things. But just because something is good for you doesn’t mean it’s not scary.

I am sharing this story of my as-yet-not-taken fearful adventure in order to hold myself accountable.

The idea is in honor of my beloved weimaraner Atlas. He is not getting any younger. I want to take action on it now, even if my actions are small and even if the idea grows and changes along the way.

I also know what can be gained by acting on things that both inspire and scare me. I left a great job to be an artist even though I was absolutely terrified; I still feel a little bit of fear every single day but my world is so much richer because of it. I hiked the Inca trail to Machu Picchu instead of taking the train even though I was absolutely terrified I was going to die of altitude sickness; when I reached Dead Woman’s Pass on the second day, I felt exhilarated, and I knew that I would doubt myself and my capabilities a little less in the future because of it.

Even though I am still afraid, I am ready for this idea to change my world too.

This post is part of the My Fearful Adventure series, which is celebrating the launch of Torre DeRoche’s debut book Love with a Chance of Drowning, a true adventure story about one girl’s leap into the deep end of her fears.

“Wow, what a book. Exciting. Dramatic. Honest. Torre DeRoche is an author to follow.” Australian Associated Press

“… a story about conquering the fears that keep you from living your dreams.” Nomadicmatt.com

“In her debut, DeRoche has penned such a beautiful, thrilling story you’ll have to remind yourself it’s not fiction.” Courier Mail

Find out more…

it is unfortunate but true that marketing and selling are often perceived as evil, even if a necessary evil, particularly by people who are trying to make their living in a heart-centered way.

i don’t think of them as evil, but i do have trouble with them.

i care about you. i care about taking actions that come from a place of alignment and integrity (which has everything to do with how i feel about something and nothing to do with its actual or perceived wrongness or rightness). i care about creating an online space that feels calm and nourishing.

because of this, i have a hard time talking about what i offer, except in a very off-handed way.

i’ve said before that beauty is my touchstone. what is really behind that is a love for the world that sometimes feels like it will consume me and a deep desire to be of service.

i was thinking about this today when my brain went and rearranged itself on me.

it’s possible i’ve gotten this all wrong.

i am beginning to see that i need to really talk about the things that i offer in order to be of service. nothing i create does anyone any good if the people who will resonate with it and benefit from it don’t know about it or can’t find it.

i am beginning to see that one of the ways i can bring more love into the world is to talk about what i offer because the message behind everything is love: love for self, love for others, and love for the beautiful world we live in.

from now on, i want to talk more about the things i offer. consciously. deliberately. with pride and pleasure.

not because i want to convince you to buy anything, but because i am creating objects and experiences that i believe will nourish you, help you remember your own beauty & magnificence, and remind you of magic & delight & hope & possibility & wonder. and yet none of that matters if i am not willing to stand up and tell you about them.

it occurs to me that talking about the things i offer is also an act of love for my business and my offerings. how on earth will they know i love them and am proud of them if i hide them away and act like i’m embarrassed of them.

this is a messy ending. i don’t have a nice closing thought or a neat & tidy conclusion to offer you. i’m not even entirely sure why i’m sharing this at all; it feels too vulnerable. but for some reason, it feels like something that is important to share.

we are singing the world into existence.

have i ever told you that i read to atlas and tell him stories?

i do.

he loves it. he watches me for a while and then he sighs happily and closes his eyes while his entire body relaxes.

i don’t know why i’ve never talked about this before. i have long thought that reading to dogs is a lovely practice.

it seems like such a simple and easy way for dogs and people to quietly connect.

dogs like attention and affection. talking to them in a normal tone of voice is a way of giving them your attention while keeping them calm. the trouble is that it can be hard to talk to your dog for long; they don’t talk back and one-sided conversations aren’t much fun. reading to them is a great way around this.

you know how i got started? an animal communicator was talking to atlas and he told her that he liked it when i read stories to him at night. except i wasn’t reading to him at all. i read exceptionally fast so i had been reading a book aloud (beowulf, i think) as a way to slow myself down.

after that, i started reading out loud deliberately, just so he could enjoy it. not all the time, but often. (oh my. i just remembered when i tried to read him the craggy hole in my heart and the cat who fixed it. i thought it would be perfect. only i cried so hard through the whole book that i could barely get the words out.)

i also tell atlas stories, usually in the evening, when he’s quietly napping on the bed or in his crate. i sit next to him on the bed or lie in front of the crate and tell him a story. often, they are true stories. favorites include the story of how he came to live with me or the story of how he chased a rabbit and then i sprained my ankle or stories that involve squirrels and kitties.

so yes, reading to dogs. i am a fan. if you have a dog, do try it and report back!

if you don’t know what to read to your dog or you want something special, check out the story club.

(poor atlas. he looked at me so sweetly but instead of getting a story, he got a camera in his face.)

once upon a time, i was an engineer.

most of the time, i liked – and even loved – my work. it seemed like life was good, that i should have been happy and contented.

only i wasn’t. there was a current of longing, a restlessness, a nagging sense of disquiet that was always running below the surface.

it felt like something was missing in my life – something important – and i couldn’t figure out what it was.

i wish i could convey how confusing and frustrating it was to always feel like something was missing.

i tried to fill the hole: with people, with activities. that didn’t work.

i tried to ignore the hole. that didn’t work either. every once in a while, the confusion and frustration would overwhelm me and i would decide that it must mean i was in the wrong place, doing the wrong thing. i would start researching other options: graduate school or the peace corp or other companies.

i thought it meant that i had to change everything.

but changing everything is a daunting prospect, and none of my ideas ever felt quite right, so i would eventually go back to ignoring it.

i did this for ten years.

the thing i know now, that i didn’t know then, is that something was missing.

i was missing a part of me.

the long hours and the stress and the busy days made it easy for me to forget all the parts of me that i didn’t need in order to do my work. they slipped further and further away from me. eventually, i forgot they were ever important at all.

the thing I know now, that i didn’t know then, is that we need beauty.

we need beauty and wonder and amazement.

we need to remember that we are more than our work.

we need to remember that there are other parts of us that need nourishment.

the thing i know now, that i didn’t know then, is that beauty is neither a luxury nor a frivolity.

beauty is a need.

beauty can nourish the parts of us that we’ve forgotten and that desperately need nourishment.

beauty can feel like a long cool deep life-giving drink to parts of us that we didn’t even realize were dying of thirst.

there are so many ways to add beauty to your day.

here are some of my favorites.

• minimizing all the open browser windows and programs and gazing softly at the tulips on my computer background
• a pause and a breath
• a glance out the window to watch the leaves wave in the wind
• chai tea in a favorite mug
• a quick doodle with fat colorful markers
• standing up and stretching
• sending a hello text to a friend
• wearing a favorite outfit or scarf or piece of jewelry
• (my personal favorite, the only one i couldn’t have done in my little cubicle) getting up from my chair to go over and kiss the pup on the top of his sweet furry head

i thought i would highlight some things that are inspiring me lately, just in case one or more of them speak to you too.

shannon offers a free class + group coaching call every month. she (and it) is always full of smartness, usefulness & laughter.

i found sharon on redbubble this past weekend. she takes the most magically beautiful photos of water & oil drops. i am so in love with them that i feel like i am going to burst with it. today, rainbow rain is my favorite.

somehow, i stumbled across this sweet & loving essay on body image. “it is the stories and the cherishing that make us beautiful. may you catch each falling moment in your hands and kiss it as it goes.”

you need to meet maddie the coonhound. i have apologized to atlas in advance, but i am determined to take my own maddie-inspired photo.

what’s inspiring you lately? anything i should know about?

please help me choose love, be love, feel love.

over and over and over.

p.s. i feel like we could all use a dose of loving kindness. so, i am offering a group reiki session this week, no charge, on thursday, may 16th, @ 6pm pst. if you’ve been wanting to try reiki, or could use some nourishment in your life, this might be for you. if you want in, let me know.

i am not the small of me.
i am the all of me.

i am beauty.
i am light.
i am love.

{to be read to yourself, dear one, aloud, slowly, and often. you are loved.}

“Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.”

– Rilke