A recent dream reminds me of the journey, the whole journey; where I once was, where I am today (and where I don’t want to go again)

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While away on a recent sand-in-my-toes reprieve to Miami — I awoke from a dream that not only startled me, I actually remembered it quite vividly. Without recounting the entire storyline, I want to share the core message. In the dream I found myself walking through corridors of what appeared to be a hospital. As I hurriedly walked down the hallway searching for something / someone, I peered into open door after open door, yet all the beds were empty.

I found myself standing before a computer screen much like one would while checking in with a receptionist at a doctor’s office. There before me on the monitor was my information. But the info it displayed was all old and outdated.

That’s not my address. I don’t live there anymore.

Panic started to set in because I had been given some sedative and though I kept repeating, that’s not my address…I couldn’t remember my new one. I knew I didn’t live there, but I couldn’t remember where I did. I knew I had to find someone who could recall the address, so I started frantically making calls. What’s my address?

There were many clues for me in this dream that I am still unpacking, but the most profound was in this notion of not living somewhere anymore — and declaring it (yet, being partially terrified of it).

Where do you not live anymore?

This doesn’t have to be about a physical place. It could be a relationship, a job, self-defeating pattern or limited thinking. Where and what have you moved on from? Fifty shades of evolution. Like peeling layers of an onion, we remove what is no longer necessary to get to the potent essence of who we are. And yet, it all matters. It all played an integral role in arriving here in this moment of your life.

What’s that for you? What no longer serves you or is unnecessary?

It’s important to acknowledge the journey — to see how far you’ve traveled, where you have visited (even if you don’t want to ever go back there), and who you have danced with. Oftentimes we leave the past in the past to the extent that we forget just how far we have come…to this place, this YOU.

Traveling has played a big role in my life since I boarded my first Paris-bound plane when I had just turned 16 years old as a young model. Those years of living out of a suitcase moving about the globe were met with both exhilaration and anxiety — newness and the unknown. Life. No one gave me a handbook or showed me how to navigate it all; especially when it came to feelings. I’m sure you have your version of it — your version of ‘winging’ it, on the job training.

You likely have your list of things you’d like to leave right where they are buried in the recesses of your memories. And while this isn’t about having to go back to unearth those things, or take up residency somewhere you no longer live — it is about acknowledging the journey to here, the landscape you’ve traversed, the beautiful awakening that has occurred (and will continue to occur) within you.

We are Best Selfers; we’re hungry for vibrant lives aligned with our highest selves body, mind and spirit.

Yet, even explorers must rest their weary bones and settle into the essence of this single moment before us — and to remember and honor it all. Each piece played a role in arriving here. Sometimes we can even look back at the most unsavory of them and give thanks.

Enjoy the ride, yet never lose sight of how far you’ve come. It’s not all about what’s next. I think the work is not about shaming ourselves or feeling guilty about the ‘mistakes’ and missteps we have made. This is the tapestry of your beautiful life in all of its seasons; the good, the bad and the ugly — all of it.

No, I don’t live there anymore. But I trust that it played an important role in where I stand and where I’m headed.

Remember, you get to choose where to live and what beliefs get to take up residency. I know where I don’t live anymore…you?

Everything in your life — every moment, every struggle — is the path.

~ Pema Chodron

You may also enjoy reading Becoming: Beyond Achieving, Acquiring, Doing…Who Are You Becoming? by Kristen Noel

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Are you lost in achieving and far from being? Release yourself from the rat race of ‘doing’ and focus on ‘becoming’…all that your soul truly desires.

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In the morning before your feet hit the ground beside your bed, before you sip that warm coffee (or tea), even before your blood is pumping and you are ready to start your day…any number of things probably dart through your brain like a checklist: to-dos, tasks, agendas…and that ol’ limited thinking. In the quiet of the morn, the chaos of the mind can storm in and take over — and defeat us before we even begin.

Don’t let that happen.

We know where we have to be and what we have to do at a designated time — get the kids off to school, get to work, show up for meetings, attend soccer games, meet deadlines, prepare dinner, walk the dog AND squeeze in self-care, etc. Phew.

Recently, while on one of my walks with a dear friend, the notion of ‘becoming’ came up. WOW, I thought to myself. Yeah, we sure put a lot of dedication, hard work and planning into our ‘goals’; perhaps those include building a business, writing a book, networking and making money.

But that all revolves around doing, acquiring and achieving… what about becoming?

Where does that squeeze in?

When was the last time you asked yourself…who am I becoming? Not what am I achieving, acquiring and doing.

Do I like ME?

Am I proud of ME?

Am I showing up for ME?

Sure, I’m a realist; we’ve got to put food on the table, a roof over our heads, pay college tuition bills and then some. But while that may feel like our ‘real’ job…it isn’t. Who you are becoming and evolving into truly is the single most important thing you will ever do. That version of you affects everything around you, from the people to the planet.

Do you have a strategy for that? When was the last time you assessed that agenda? Hmmm. And by the way, I hear you. I put a lot of things at the top of my list, while my ‘becoming’ slips to the bottom, for when I have time. I promise I’ll get to it later, but becoming isn’t an ala carte item on a dinner menu.

What’s really important to you? Can you shift something in your life to make more room for that…to at least knock it up a few pegs on the list?

Self-awareness is our job. Self-agency is our homecoming.

Healing our wounds heals the world, truly. As they say, hurt people…hurt people. Besides, we can’t heal others, we can only heal ourselves. However, a beautiful thing emerges when we do our own work — we clear space for more of the same, as our journeys and evolution continue to unfold. And we invite others to do the same in their own lives, mirroring a reflection of what is possible for all.

Before you may dismiss this as…look, I just don’t have time for that right now business — I want you to know, it doesn’t have to be complicated. In fact, it’s best if it’s not. It may simply start with a morning prayer, an awareness, a small action. But those things grow, they plant the garden of your Best Self soul.

Consciously be your Best Self and become more of it each day…you will smile more, laugh more, breathe more, see more, give more, feel more, love more — become more. Yes, I want more — more of that please! That’s what I’m becoming…YOU?

You may also enjoy reading It’s Time to Fly: Facing Our Fears and Letting Go, by Kristen Noel

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Taking a deep breath is about more than just calming the nervous system, it’s about resetting our emotional framework. It’s about inhaling gratitude and healing.

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Go ahead, take a load off and give yourself a break (I’m serious).

I’ve been inspired of late by this notion of taking a breather…probably because, I need it (and you just might, too) and sometimes I need to remind myself what’s really important. To-do lists, perpetual motion, engaging in life’s drama…or not. We get to choose and we can stop over-complicating things for ourselves.

Don’t let the simplicity of a single action — a choice to momentarily press pause and step out of the chaos — overshadow the power of its reach to transform you at any given moment, in any given circumstance.

No, we can’t always control the circumstances we find ourselves within, but we can decide how we are going to navigate them. Fortified or frenzied; choices, choices.

I always say the seeds of Best Self Magazine were born of my own need to call forth healing in my life — and I wasn’t kidding. And what a learning, healing, revealing, connecting-the-dots journey it has been. And boy, oh boy, did I spend a of time going about this the wrong way.

You may not know that my last 16 years have been spent on a construction site wearing a hard hat — it was my life that was under reconstruction; literally rebuilding from the ground up after losing everything. I share this because it stands as the ultimate excuse-buster and beacon of possibility. At a time when I was scrambling to reassemble the pieces of a broken life, I didn’t have tools to rely upon, the resources to lean on or the wherewithal to know which way to turn…so I kept scrambling, oftentimes in the same circles, coming face-to-face with the same results and exhausting myself.

Does any of this sound vaguely familiar?

Though even before I had the slightest understanding of the mind, body, spirit connection, I was holding onto a morsel of hope that life could be different, that I could change the narrative from the one I felt victimized by and stuck in.

But how?

Just start… somewhere, anywhere, take a deep breath…give a little thanks (for anything). Giving thanks was once a life preserver and the only thing I could hold onto. Today it’s a practice. It can be dismissed in its simplicity and yet it is salve for the soul — to be given and received, every breathing moment of our lives.

A ‘Best Self Breather’ is a detour from the chaos of your human experience — no matter what the experience. It is found in awakened awareness, in gratitude and in the little things. Little things are not only big things — they are ‘every’ things.

It’s a pivot; a reset, a recalibration, a moment of grace…and I want to let you in on a little secret — it doesn’t have to cost you anything, but comes with enormous benefit. As a matter of fact, the notion of this first emerged for me (and saved me) at a time in my life when I felt like I had nothing. A time when I had to rely upon myself to choose feeling good, seeing beauty and striving for healing — or choose suffering.

Eventually, I found tools and I made breakthroughs. And when I began to taste that sweet nectar, there was no turning back and thus began my quest home to my Best Self. But I need to remind myself all the time. The difference is that today when I start to feel that spiral down, I stop and I observe my thoughts, my words, my actions. Do they reflect who I am, who I want to be, how I want to show up…?

Reset. Look around. Grab something to be grateful for and hold it tight until you feel yourself exhale.

I know what it feels like to lose everything, I do. I also know what it feels like to find my way back. And when I slip, I remind myself what I’m capable of.

No, a ‘Best Self Breather’ won’t solve the problems of the world, but ‘Best Self Breather’ moments strung together begin to tell a new story, create a new perspective — most of all, a transformed reality. We will face life obstacles throughout this journey…but it is HOW we face them that matters most.

I share this with you because, well, if I could do it, so can you.

And when you start making time for breathers and seeking gratitude, it’s like a whimsical game of hide and seek with the Universe. Do you think she caught that one? Put another one over there. Seek and ye shall find.

And trust me, nothing can shift you like a bit of joy that rises up in your belly and fills you.

It can be found reading a passage from a book that deeply resonates with you. Have you ever read something that you thought was written specifically for YOU, whose words jump from the page into your soul? You can find it walking across a room and witnessing a glorious ray of light reflecting on a vase of flowers. It can be found in the woods surrounded by trees, on a city sidewalk, sitting in your car in traffic, waiting online to pay a barista for your coffee. There is always something, somewhere to be grateful for. They can be momentary breaks or expand into longer periods of your days.

Let your breathers lead the way. Trust me, they will. Even reading this is an acknowledgement that you seek them too. Insert them into the fabric of your precious life, your daily routine, your beautiful being…and keep inserting them.  

You may also enjoy reading Tenderly Holding the Bitter & Sweet: Finding Gratitude Within Life’s Beauty and Pain, by Indira Abby Heijnen

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Worry begets worry. It doesn’t solve problems. What if instead, you could gather up your fears, anxieties and worries and hand them over to someone else?

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Recently on the phone with my Aunt, I told her about my ‘God Box’. What’s a God Box you ask (and so did she)? Well…

Let’s face it, we reach life saturation points from time to time, perhaps more often than we like. For myriad reasons we hit a wall; those I just don’t have time (or the capacity) to deal with this right now moments. Sometimes I even feel caught between a tug-a-war of feeling jaded by self-help modalities (been there done that) and excited by the prospect of something new (the eternal optimist).

As a job perk, I get exposed to amazing people doing amazing things in the world all the time. And like many other living, breathing humans walking this life journey — I’m perpetually on the quest for answers to all that ails me. That is of course when I am not stuck in the above busyness mode.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think life is a perpetual quest. In fact, I think it’s necessary to absorb and assimilate. In other words to breathe into the experience of life and process, otherwise life will be exhausting and unfulfilling. Just as you accomplish one thing, you are onto the next, having forgotten to savor both the ride and the rest.

That said, when you wake up to the power within you to heal and make connections, body, mind and spirit — when you seize your power to shift out of limited thinking and unworthiness, when you identify wounds and understand your ability to break old chords that bind you to repeating patterns (some you may have inherited) — you come home to self (your Best Self) and there’s no turning back. And you want more!

But even within all of that life renovating, we need reminders to trust the timing and God, to discern what we can control, where we can impart change and where we can’t — and in particular, what isn’t ours to worry about.

Now let’s talk about God (and I’m getting to the God Box, I promise). This is non-denominational. I know that when many think of God it triggers emotional baggage — fear, shame, guilt, family history, dogma, etc. In the book I’m currently reading, It’s Not Your Money by Tosha Silver, she suggests that, for those who are spiritually curious but averse to conventional religion, it may help to choose your own words that resonate.  

I was drawn to this book because, well, money is a pain point for me. I’m always looking for ways to dive deeper into healing my old wounds and that can help me recognize those triggers. Trust me, I read plenty of books, pray, meditate, journal, use EFT (tapping), do deep spiritual dives, etc., but something really registered with a prompt in Tosha’s book…creating a God Box.

This may sound so simple (and it is), but it’s also precisely where we get caught up and overcomplicate things.

In the book, she suggests taking a box of any sort. Each time a worry, fear or negative thought comes up, write it down on a piece of paper and put it in your box…and turn it over to God to figure out.

Voila! That’s it.

The act of owning your fear, writing it down and giving it over to a higher source can be incredibly cathartic. I’m not suggesting that you are not an active participant in your life. However, this exercise creates the space for you to momentarily interrupt your thinking, to catch yourself, to claim it and call it out and to ask for help reconciling it. These are the kinds of steps that break patterns and reroute behaviors.

The other day, a worn-out worry popped up for me mid-conversation and I just interrupted it, wrote it down, and slipped it into my God Box. You’d be surprised how one fear leads to exposing a few more. One thought unleashes a slew of them. All that to say, my box is filling up.

While I’ve only been doing this for a week or so, I can’t give you any conclusive findings. I can tell you that it has been oddly comforting — and things have been shifting in subtle, but noticeable ways for me. I’ve also committed to telling the truth without explanation or editing. And the simpler, the better. Just put the raw emotion on the paper and give it to God.

I’m a natural born do-er, fixer and one who rolls up her sleeves and gets in there. In other words, sometimes I try to muscle my way through things that aren’t mine to fix. What if we considered a different approach all together: Let go and let God. Hmmm. I’m liking this ‘God Box’ idea. Want to join me? What do you have to lose…some anxiety, worry, fear, limited thinking?

You may also enjoy reading Worry vs. Mindfulness: A Life Lesson, by Judy Marano

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Coming face-to-face with a bin of photos from the past that had been hidden away, uncovers emotional healing and personal reclamation

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This summer, clicking through the channels on TV with my son, I came across a series that CNN was airing; The Eighties, The Nineties, The 2000’s, etc. It highlighted everything from world politics, music and film to celebrity, fashion and trends — it painted a picture, a time capsule of sorts. The plastic storage bin in this photo, that has been sealed with packing tape and tucked away under the bed in my childhood room, was my ‘Nineties’…and I haven’t looked at it since.

I recently pulled it out, dusted it off and cracked it open. Aside from the immediate entertainment factor, OMG, look at me amazement, I was actually shocked that I hadn’t dove into this before. Yes, this is what pre-digital life looked like; piles of prints that were the result of rolls of film being dropped off to be developed. Remember when we thought we were so technologically advanced when film processing could be turned around in an hour? We never could’ve imagined that one day our phones would not only provide us with instant gratification — we’d have the capabilities to edit, crop, filter and perfect every image we put forth…and thus the stories that went along with them.

Of course I was amused looking through this, but I was also incredibly intrigued by not only how much I had forgotten, how many people I was no longer in contact with and how many others had passed away — but what I was supposed to do with it all now? It was a mixed bin of feelings to say the least.

Our lives are full of chapters; some more memorable than others. Some we choose to hold onto, some we’d like to kick to the curb.

Been there done that, get it (truly).

But our lives aren’t iPhone editable. We can run. We can hide. We can deny old stories and truths about ourselves. We can toss boxes of photo albums and diaries documenting pieces and parts of our stories under our beds or in dark closets and pretend that they aren’t a part of us. But it doesn’t erase them or their role in our sum total, our whole being.

The chapters of my life have been demarcated by professions, husbands and dramatic events.  And once I had entered the next, I thought I had shut the door behind me — adios to the last. But between those ‘big’ events were all of the significant little ones; the choices made, the feelings felt, the paths taken — each a critical ingredient in the recipe of our lives.

Sure, your taste buds can change and evolve, but we can’t pretend away our past (and though at certain times this is hard to believe…you don’t really want to).

Everything about the 1990’s was big for me — big money, travel, love, success, pain and plot twists. At the beginning, I was at the pinnacle of my modeling career, but by the mid-nineties I would decide to walk away. I would end one marriage and enter a new one. I would make abrupt shifts from traveling the world to working in a law firm and going back to college. I thought that in order to navigate these transitions I needed to be ‘all in’ — to let go of one thing to begin another. But it was all a part of me. It couldn’t be edited out.

Now when I look at this box, I sigh and I’m grateful that it still exists. Growing up in a world pre-Internet and social media, we didn’t document our every move or morsel of food we put into our mouths. This box tells the stories that the journals from that time, that I long ago destroyed, can no longer tell. It reminds me of my journey to here. It helps me recollect the essence of the young life-adventurer who didn’t know where it was all heading, but kept on truckin’.

Instead of being in such a hurry to grow up, to arrive at a certain destination — I could now scoop it all up; the shame, fear, guilt, unworthiness, and self-admonishment. And I could hug it all and her, the brave young girl who once got on an airplane headed to Paris by herself 2 months after her 16^th birthday. She got me to here. She laid the breadcrumbs out on the path for me to retrace decades later.

I owe her an apology.

But I think she already knows that because in opening this bin…together we laughed and cried and remembered it all.

This time was different. I closed the lid, taped it back up for safe-keeping and carried it to my car. It was time to come home…precious cargo.

No matter where you’ve been, no matter what you’ve been through, no matter how many wrong turns you’ve taken…it all led to here, to you in this moment — desiring to see it all, to reveal its deeper meaning, to show up as your Best Self, and to embrace and embody the value.

And to stand as a testament to the fact that you are strong enough to handle what came before you and what’s on the path ahead.  

If you’ve got a bin under the bed or in the attic, whatever your equivalent may be — crack it open. Travel down memory lane with self-compassion and gratitude for the ride. It all matters. You matter through all your incarnations. You are precious cargo.

You may also enjoy reading Freedom From Our Un-Serving and Negative Thoughts, by Annette Quarrier

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How letting go of an old car brought up memories, attachments and most of all, thanks. It’s not the stuff we need attaching to, it’s the gratitude.

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I’m probably the only person who would burst into tears on the way to pick up a new car — and then come home and write about it. Yep, that’s me. I literally had tears streaming down my cheeks as I pulled into the car dealership. And of course, a sentimental song played through my rudimentary radio speakers as a last serenade on the way there. They weren’t tears of excitement, they were of parting. Goodbye ol’ friend.

I know we aren’t supposed to have attachments to things and in most instances, I really don’t. But I’ve been driving that car for over 10 years. My attachment to her is sentimental…not practical. Heart not head.

We’ve literally driven through a lot of life together — ups and downs, feast and famine, fear and faith. We took care of each other. No, she was never the latest luxury model off the lot, she was a solid-as-a-rock SUV that I leaned on.

She was my ‘soccer Mom’ car and we had each other’s backs.

I always laughed that we were kindred spirits — and that both of us were holding up better than our age! Ha.

I had no reason to consider replacing her, until recently when it became abundantly clear that it was time to shift. The writing was on the wall — and on the auto repair bills. Even when we don’t like letting go of things, they have a way of letting us know: it will be OK. The time has come. Things end.

It sounds a bit silly for one who never put a great deal of emphasis on the kind of car she drove, to suddenly get completely mushy about it. However, it wasn’t about the car per se, it was actually about the immense gratitude I had for the ‘ride’ and each and every memory that has led me to here.

You see, those imperfect car panels held those memories and they all came flooding back as I patted my dashboard, as I regularly did, and gave my final thanks before bidding her adieu.

Thanks for 150,000+ miles, for keeping my family safe, for getting me from many point A’s to many point B’s. For transporting a little boy (who grew into a man) between countless sporting events. For all the road trips. For allowing lots of rowdy, sweaty kids to squeeze in. For helping the resident teenager pass his driver’s test. For driving us to the airport when we took said teenager to begin his first year of college. For all the hospital visits to see my Dad before he passed. For bringing home the ashes of our beloved family dog. For the muddy boots, the skis, the bikes, the luggage, the sandy feet after trips to the beach, the grocery bags and camping gear. For navigating mountain life and snowy winters. For it all. For being a time capsule of my heart.

Even as I hurriedly emptied out the car before trading her in, I pulled things like doggie poop bags from the glove compartment for all those ‘just in case’ moments. Our sweet girl has been gone for over a year — though a jolt, it was like receiving a nod hello from my furry friend. And I don’t know where this was hiding, but I actually pulled out a baseball — and with it a video stream of memories.

It’s not the attachment to the stuff, it’s the attachment to the stuff that happened within the stuff.

A car is just a car until it carries your precious cargo.

It’s about allowing yourself to sink into profound gratitude and to feel it all up.

And trust me, sitting in my brand spanking new hybrid car with all of its bells and whistles, oozing of new car smell, helped ease the sting of sentiment. Yes, chapters end, but I wanted to jot down these feelings because our lives are chock full of ‘stuff’ that has become a part of the fabric of our hearts. Most of them fade into the background of daily life unnoticed. Notice them. You won’t regret it.

When we allow ourselves to give thanks for the seemingly innocuous things sprinkled about us, it’s a good day even if you shed a tear or two. New car, you’ve got some big shoes to fill.

You may also enjoy reading Losing My Beloved Dog: A Love Letter to Guiding Eyes, by Terry Funk-Atman

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How a chance encounter with a stranger shifted my perspective on ‘being’ — and how I wanted to ‘be’ in the world

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I’ve recently been thinking a lot about striving. Doesn’t it seem like we’re always hustling for something bigger, brighter, shinier, more — more money, more followers, more likes, more love, more stuff? Sometimes we simply need to take a break from strategizing and slip into more ‘being’. But let’s face it, that takes practice because we’re pretty accustomed (and addicted) to life set on high octane. We all have our version of it.

That mindset distracts us from our true desires and soul call. However, the easiest way to point yourself back in the right direction is to either get still or get silly and have some fun (or perhaps a combination of it all) — which reminds me of one of my all-time favorite stories of playful giving.

One afternoon driving to an appointment, after quickly scoring a parking spot and having just parallel-parked my car successfully the first time (a feat in itself) — I glanced quickly at the clock on the dashboard. I was early. So what did I do? After digging into the blackhole of my handbag for a handful of quarters to feed the meter, I sat there and scrolled through my phone to make sure Oprah hadn’t sent me an email. Ha! I jest, but the urgency and frequency with which we check our electronic devices tells a different story, doesn’t it? (Wink) I digress.

It was late in the day, the sun was low in the sky and sending glowing beams straight through my windshield. That’s probably why we didn’t see each other at first. When I glanced up, there was a shadowed figure standing before my car and my parking meter. Panic. Am I getting a ticket? But before I could defensively respond and release myself from my seatbelt he was gone. He never saw me sitting there in the car. Perhaps he too was blinded by the ‘light’.

I was stunned when it finally clicked and I realized what he had done.

This kindly, older gentleman who happened upon an expired meter just fed it with a few coins dug out of his pocket…just because.

He didn’t know me, or recognize my car, he wasn’t a meter reader or a traffic cop — he was a meter fairy.

I couldn’t make out his face, but I remember the notable gait to his stride as he disappeared down the sidewalk. He boasted a somewhat childlike, impish energy and left a trail of happy behind him. He wasn’t looking to be noticed, he was just ‘being’ — being thoughtful, being considerate, being his Best Self and chuckling to himself as he did it. And I wanted to know more about his ‘just because’ being. Quarter by quarter, he was making an impact in someone else’s life whether they realized it or not. 

Sometimes the embodiment of being isn’t all about what else we need to be doing for ourselves or what else we need to be achieving or acquiring. Sometimes it is found in what we can be giving and sharing.

Think of an expired meter as ‘time’s up’ on some old thinking. I don’t know about you, but I’d like to tap a little more into that life force energy; to be more connected, caring and loving.

Time was up on my meter and an old way of thinking. What I longed for more of: to capture some of that energy – making magic out of the mundane, being present and amused throughout my day, no matter what. I still think of him and smile whenever I see a parking meter.  And now, my eyes are open and on the lookout for my own fun…and to pay it forward.  Expired meters beware. I’m coming for you! I hold loose change in a new regard.  Only a few random quarters…but oh the possibilities.

You may enjoy reading other short articles of inspiration in our Best Self Bytes section.

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Weeds like life issues, though unwelcome at first, can present unexpected opportunity, possibility and healing perspective

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At first glance, weeds in a garden bed are about as welcome as messy little problems in life. They all need tending, yet they also bring opportunity.

Though I am certainly not known for my green thumb, cooking or gardening, I have certainly learned the merits of getting my hands dirty. Each year I plant a few ‘manageable’ flower gardens that require minimal tending so that I can have the best of both worlds: flowers and a life.

And perhaps a surprising little fact about me: one of my favorite things to do is weed.

Weeding gets a bum rap and can actually be incredibly satisfying. As I am more of an instant gratification kind of gal…I like to see the fruits of my labor in real time. So weeding works for me. But beyond the tidying up aesthetic — getting your hands in the dirt helps the noise of the world fade away. Truly.

It’s a go-to for me when I need a ‘time out’ — like those moments when you are about to explode or feel you are banging your head against a wall. That’s when I step out my back porch and get to work. Sometimes I grab gloves, sometimes I just dig in. Sometimes I even stand barefoot in the grass while I do it for extra grounding.

It’s amazing what you can accomplish in 5 minutes, even more amazing to see how connecting with Mother Nature almost instantly calms the nervous system.

Yes, I find myself breathing, becoming more aware of my present moment and surroundings and have even found myself humming on occasion. Now that’s a big jump from the escalating frustrated mood I started in. It’s an incredible reset.

Weeds also transport and connect me to sentimental memories.

One summer morning after a walk while visiting my parents in my childhood home on Long Island, I recognized there were more weeds than flowers in their garden. I grabbed some gardening gloves from the garage and got to work. A few moments later my father wandered outside the back door to check on me. It was shortly before he passed away (4 years this August). His heart hadn’t been strong enough for him to do much more than grab a chair and sit beside me keeping me company.

Now you might be sitting there thinking…aaaaw, how sweet. And yes, it was. But if you knew my Dad, you’d also know that he was a great supervisor. Just the day before we had purchased some seedlings for his vegetable garden. In some ways it was a moot point because we all knew that he would never have the stamina to tend it moving forward. But in other ways, we wanted to lend a hand in helping him stay connected to the things he loved doing.

As the sun beat down on my sweaty brow, he directed me to “plant this there, tie this up that way, put this next to that.” I laugh, cry and roll my eyes just thinking about that day.

Once again the weeds had given me a gift – time spent with my father.  It was the last garden we planted together — and a gift imprinted upon my heart. Sometimes there are more weeds than flowers in life, Best Selfers, but don’t be afraid to get your hands in the Mother Earth when possible. Slow down when you need it. Share love at every chance. Allow yourself to take a breather. And see (and seize) the weeds of opportunity.

You may enjoy reading other short articles of inspiration in our Best Self Bytes section.

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The edge of a nest, like a comfort zone, can hold us back or propel us forward. If you’re ready to fly in any aspect of your life…read on!

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On a recent annual pilgrimage to Maine this summer, the most exciting thing that happened each morning (aside from the hot coffee and fresh baked goods delivery to our campground) —was this. Look closely, a baby bird about to fly the nest. Initially, there were 2 and this guy (I decided it was a ‘he’) was left. Though it appears from this photo that I just happened to capture ‘the’ moment before the big leap — alas, it was not and in fact, it took a few days of back-and-forth.

You see, he took two steps forward and then one back. Went out on the edge of the nest and then retreated to the comfort of what he knew. Flapped his wings with the confidence that he could fly and then looked down, terrorized and immobilized.

Sound familiar?

While I believe in the divine timing of life — I also believe that there are moments where we are scared shitless, both in our personal and professional lives.

We’re not sure our wings will flap fast enough, that we won’t fall flat on the ground, that we won’t fail, that there is no safety net to catch us.

Life doesn’t come with a money-back guarantee. Sometimes we just have to go for it — we have to bust-a-move and we need to trust in what is calling to us…be it a mama bird from a nearby tree limb or a passion project. As Wayne Dyer said, “Don’t die with your music still in you.”

Where are you holding back? I know I have my tactics. I bet you have yours. Could you consider stepping up onto the ledge of your comfort zone and going for it? The little guy in this picture did and as an endnote: he didn’t fall to the ground. If he can do it, so can you and I!

It’s time to fly, Best Selfers!

There is freedom waiting for you,
On the breezes of the sky,
And you ask, “What if I fall?”
Oh but my darling,
What if you fly?

~ Erin Hanson

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