First Responses

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A Love Story: The Transformative Power of the Twelve Steps hasn’t officially launched yet, but four people who bought it on Amazon have told me they read the book in one sitting.

Here’s what Gale Hendricks from Austin said, “I couldn’t put it down. I even took it outside with me while I took our two dogs out to potty! I used a few Kleenex to be able to read through the tears. It is so moving and emotional (especially the journaling). Congratulations on a winner.”

If you live in Sedona, the official launch is Friday, September 29, at 2:00 at Village Yoga.

I’m grateful to have written a book that touches people’s hearts.

You write or draw it: What are you grateful for?

Coconut Pound Cake

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Almost a year ago, I promised to make a coconut pound cake for a friend’s birthday. Instead, I stood by my husband’s side in a hospital room, holding his hand as he left this world.

Almost a year ago.

Yesterday I baked a coconut pound cake for an event in my home later this week. It feels like coming full circle.

In the last year, family and friends have poured love into me. Grace has been my guide as I slowly and reluctantly mourned.

Within the last six months I wrote a book about my cherished relationship with Harlan. It’s now available here: https://www.amazon.com/Love-Story-Transformative-Power-Twelve/dp/B0CFWSCM3T and on the Barnes and Noble website.

May you have peace.

The Power of Truth

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“Truth sets us free” is one of my favorite sayings. And when we speak the truth in love to each other, breakthroughs can happen. This happened to me a few days ago.

Over the last few months I have written a book entitled A Love Story: The Transformative Power of the Twelve Steps. But I hit a wall with it. I won’t bore you with the details; I’ll just say it was a mighty struggle that involved, among other things, buying new software and accepting my daughter’s gift of her just-discarded laptop. Even then, there was one more blockade to overcome.

My breakthrough came when I shared my struggles with an intention friend. She said, “Nancy, I think you haven’t let Harlan go. Maybe it’s time to imagine he’s sitting in a chair across from you and tell him he can go now.” Well, that’s not exactly what I did; I didn’t want to send him away. But I did say to his spirit, “I want you to be where you want to be.” Those words set me free.

You write it: When have you experienced breakthrough after struggle? What set you free?

Stress

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I know that stress comes from within—from my reaction to external forces. I’ve just been through a very stressful week related to finishing my latest book. My whole body was tense. It wasn’t the book that was doing that to me; I was doing it to myself, and I couldn’t stop until I moved the book to the next phase.

What was driving my stress was intense mental energy needed to learn new software and a new process for doing what other people used to do for me. So maybe a little resentment was thrown in there, as well.

At any rate, I reached the next plateau, and today my body is relaxed. I just finished meditating, and all is well. Peace is restored.

You write it: What do you do when you find yourself in the control of stress?

Go in Peace

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Last week I drove from Sedona to Santa Fe to see Austin musician Sam Baker in concert and to attend the opening of his art display at Worrell Gallery.

Sam’s music opens hearts. His back story is that on his way to Machu Pichu by train, many years ago, a bomb went off in the luggage rack over his head, killing the couple from Germany across from him and their son, sitting beside him. Sam’s wounds, though not mortal, were incredibly serious. It took him years to regain the use of his hands, and he had to learn to play the guitar with his non-dominant hand.

But Sam, in his heart of hearts, is a poet and philosopher. Bitterness has no place with him. Google him. Listen to his music. Prepare to open your heart a little wider. Here are the lyrics to my favorite Sam Baker song:

Go in peace. Go in kindness. Go in love. Go in faith. Leave the day, the day behind us. Day is done. Go in grace. Let us go into the dark not afraid, not alone. Let us hope, by some good pleasure, safely to arrive at home.

Just Stop

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Last week I pushed myself, determined to complete the publication of my next book. After I strained and suffered, I finally gave up, asked for help, and waited. Instead of sitting tensely at the computer, I put on piano music and sat down to work a puzzle. I went to the terrace to relax. I let go. I totally let go.

That was last Thursday.

This morning two miracles related to the publication of that book occurred. It’s still not published, but I see a pathway now, and it’s going to be so much better than what I envisioned.

This is the power of letting go.

You write or draw it: What is your experience with letting go?

Hit "Send"

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I just hit “send” for my latest manuscript to go to an agent for review. A Love Story: The Transformative Power of the Twelve Steps is the title—an account of the journey Harlan and I walked together for the 26 years of our marriage. It weaves together strands of generational addiction and ultimate healing.

I had to write this book—maybe just for me. But it was the most challenging and fulfilling journey of my life, and my heart needed it.

You write it: When have you felt compelled to do something? What was it?

All In

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I’m “all in” with meditation. Although I’ve been meditating for years, I usually spend only 20 minutes in silent meditation. That’s enough to calm my mind, even enough for me to experience some revelations.

But yesterday I decided to stick with a guided meditation, that I had purchased several months ago, all the way to the end—about an hour. Not only did I have a profound experience, but for the rest of the day I felt really strong and hopeful. I had energy to work in the yard, complete some tasks that I had put off, and even go to a late afternoon concert.

So I’m interested—what is your experience with meditation?

Answer to Prayer

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Yesterday I had the unpleasant experience of being greeted in an unexpected, insulting way. The other individual thought he was being funny. But instead of “Good morning,” I got a crude, sexist story. Fortunately, another friend noticed my predicament and rescued me. But I was left with a “bad taste in my mouth,” another word for a resentment. I just couldn’t get it out of my mind.

This morning in the Serenity Meditation (which I lead every Monday morning at Village Yoga), I asked God to guide me to the passage I needed. My fingers turned to Chapter 3 of Simple Serenity, entitled “Understanding: Gateway to Acceptance.” In the first paragraphs, I tell the story of difficulty I experienced with a person, until I understood what was driving his words and actions. Then, “full realization came that he is acting in accordance with who he is and what he struggles with, neither of which have anything to do with me. In other words, it’s not my fault, and nothing I can say or do will change him.”

With those words, I let go of my resentment. And I give thanks for good friends who see my distress and come to my rescue.

What do you do with resentment?

Being with You

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Sometimes, when we leave someone’s company, we say, “I enjoyed being with you.” We toss it off, lightly. What if our authenticity were so complete that we actually mean, “I enjoyed BEING with you”?

That’s what I strive for—spontaneity, truthfulness, being present, being-ness—so that I can say, with each parting, “I enjoyed BEING with you.”

You write or draw it: “Being”—what is that, to you?

Tapestry

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Equanimity is not the same thing as numbness. Rather, it’s taking the stance of an observer who, with compassion, sees and feels all of life without succumbing to despair or euphoria, allowing what is to weave life like a tapestry.

TODAY,

A beloved wife, mother and teacher died.

A friend entered the manic phase of her disorder.

Roses bloomed.

A puppy learned to follow a lead.

A much-loved daughter arrived for a visit.

A beloved daughter called.

A young deer ate the lower blooms of the pink yucca.

Rats in the attic delayed a trip.

The white dog sleeps in, under covers.

Least Effort for Best Results

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Last week’s blog about Colt reminded me of an incident that occurred during a leadership retreat I led several years ago. My friend, Lindy Segall, assisted me by taking retreat participants into a “round pen” with a horse. As each participant came forward for his/her time with the horse, Lindy coached them on what to ask the horse to do and how to get the results they wanted.

One man, the president of an engineering company, had difficulty. “Ask the horse to come to you,” Lindy said. The man said, “Come here.” The horse just stood there. Lindy said, “Try again.” This time louder, the man said, “Come here!!!!” Still, the horse just stood there. In fact, he backed away. Point made. I don’t think this guy was ever successful with the horse.

But there was a young lady up next. Lindy’s instructions were the same. “Ask the horse to come to you.” She said nothing. She held out her hand. The horse came to her. She had tears in her eyes. So did we.

You write it: How did you learn that sometimes the least effort yields the best results?

A Lesson from Colt

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Colt is my one and one-half year-old Bichon. This morning I let him out to do his thing in my fenced back yard. After ten minutes, he had done nothing. Figuring he needed more time, I went back into the house because I had to get dressed for Serenity Meditation, which occurs every Monday morning. Colt followed me back in and, when my back was turned, pooped in my closet.

Furious, I was. I screamed at him, put him in the crate, and didn’t speak to him when I left.

When I checked online to see why he might have this behavior, I learned two things: (1) He might have had a digestion problem. (2) There might be something outside he’s afraid of (like coyotes).

Even though our yard is fenced, twice a coyote has come right up to the fence. He is understandably frightened. In fact, sometimes he stands just outside the door, puts his nose in the air to smell, and then turns around to go right back into the house. I get it.

AND he did have digestion problems from eating the whole bag of cooked chicken I had put out to thaw for my lunch yesterday! He jumped up as high as the counter until he could reach it to knock it on the floor.

I’ve been told I need to send him away for a month and pay $2,000 for him to be trained. I think I need to remember he is not human. (I also need to remember not to put food too near the edge of the counter!) Together, we can work this out—if I stay out of anger and unreasonable expectations.

You write or draw it: Is there anything going on with you in which your expectations may be unreasonable?