“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.”
Serenity comes when we realize that the “things I can” change are all within me. Right now, for example, what are you resisting? Change resistance to acceptance. Feel the tension leave your body. Realize that all—truly—is well.
Last week I participated in horse therapy, led by Belle Shook in Cottonwod, AZ. It wasn’t the first time I had experienced the sentient power of horses, but it was the most impactful. Horses sense our vibration—what we are wordlessly thinking and feeling—and they respond.
My greatest gift was the moment when the three horses lined up behind me. Overwhelmingly, a feeling came over me that I was safe—that they “had my back.” It was the first time I had experienced that feeling since my husband died. It was a void that I had not acknowledged.
Emotions are powerful. Maybe this is a good day to acknowledge what’s going on with you and look around for helpers.
You write it: Have you ever derived strength from horses? What was it like?
Please do go to my website, https://www.NancyOelklaus.com, and listen to the 5-minute recording entitled “Mirror Neurons.” Then read The Hidden Messages in Water by Masaru Emoto. These two sources provide the scientific basis for the adage that, from our thoughts and feelings, we create our own experiences, moment by moment. No one does anything “to us.” So, if you aren’t living the life you truly want, look within. Set an intention that IS what you truly want.
It might also help to participate in Serenity Meditation on Mondays at 12:00 noon MST. Register here at least one hour before the meditation begins: https://www.villageyogasedona.com/online-yoga-classes
Peace be with you.
When there are no more mountains to climb, you walk
Valley paths, not entangled with vines
Or cragged with steeps and rock.
Not littered with struggles of other climbs—
Just level paths, with fellow travelers and light loads.
You write it: I’ve just described what my life is like today. How about yours?
When we choose not to forgive, we choose to feel the original hurt again—and again—and again. Who is actually hurting us? Our own thoughts.
I’m working on forgiveness these days. Maybe you are, too. If you want more about forgiveness, email me at NancyOelklaus@gmail.com
You write it: Who/what are you ready to forgive?
In the preface to A Love Story, I wrote, “His mischievous sense of humor was intact, and I saw a familiar flicker of a smile. It was clean between us.”
It is a great blessing to have a relationship that is “clean.” But many of us have the other kind, in which resentments have been allowed to remain. That is why I recorded “Reconciliation” and posted it to my website as an audio tool. www.NancyOelklaus.com
If you would like to experience reconciliation, I offer these simple steps: Feel all the feelings. Decide how you want to be in this relationship. Say or write, from your heart, what you truly need to say. Begin your writing with, “What I truly need to say is. . . .”
Going through this process may be all you need to do—because, you see, the problem and the solution are within you.
You write it: With whom would you like to experience reconciliation? What is your next step?
At 12:00 noon Mountain Standard Time, a livestream of meditation that I lead at Village Yoga in the Village of Oak Creek, Sedona, will begin. Here’s the meditation design:
5 minutes of focused attention on the sound of waterfall, flowing through and cleansing us.
20 minutes of meditation designed to get us out of our heads and into our hearts. (The 5-minute introduction to this “heart meditation” may be found on my website, www.NancyOelklaus.com, under “Audio Meditation.”
20 minutes of meditation launched by a passage from my book entitled Simple Serenity.
I hope you’ll join us. https://www.villageyogasedona.com/online-yoga-classes Please register online at least 1 hour prior to the start time of 1:00 MST.
On Christmas Day I hiked to the place where we spread my husband’s ashes. I had not been there in over a year. It is a place I dearly love. I know it well. But on this day, I had a hard time finding it. In fact, I passed it and had to circle back. Then I realized NATURE IS CONSTANTLY CHANGING! Logs get moved; rocks shift. What I thought were solid markers are actually only temporary.
As I journaled and reflected on this experience, I wrote this intention: I yield to the constancy of change.
You write it: How well are you yielding to the constancy of change?
I love being awake in the early morning,
When darkness covers the village
And the white dog lies warmly beside me.
Then, all is clear—simple—well defined.
You write it: When is life clear, simple, and well defined for you?
Some time ago I learned that favorite cousins had retired to Prescott, which is only a little more than an hour away from Sedona. I got their contact information from another family member, thinking, “I’d like to reconnect with them someday.”
Yesterday was that day, and our reunion was warm, loving, kind, and meaningful. Of course, we had to spend some time catching up with news of what our children are doing now and what had happened in the more than 25 intervening years, but that took surprisingly little time. We quickly moved the topic of conversation to what has meaning in our lives today.
This reunion was uplifting for me, and we promised to meet again in the spring, opening a new door to a treasured relationship.
You write it: Is there anyone with whom you would like to reconnect? When will you do it?
A couple of years before he died, right before Christmas, my husband said, “I would like to buy you a pair of emerald and diamond earrings.” He loved that combination of stones, and he described the type of earring he was thinking of.
“Oh,” I said. “They would be sooo expensive!”
He dropped the subject. So did I. It never came up again. I can’t tell you how many times I have remembered and regretted my response! Instead of acknowledging his love and generosity, I hit him where he was vulnerable—money.
It’s never too late to set things straight—even when a loved one is no longer living here on earth. So, a couple of months ago, I placed an order with my favorite jeweler, Franzetti, in Austin. I’ve made two payments on a pair of very expensive emerald and diamond earrings, and I’ll pay them off in full tomorrow, just in time for Christmas.
These earrings remind me of the kind, thoughtful, loving, and generous man I loved. And still do.
You write it: Do you have any regrets you are ready to let go?
Remembering what was. Anticipating what might be. These are states of mind I’m letting go. When I feel myself being pulled into them, I stop and remind myself, “Be in the moment.” Only then am I able to be fully myself.
When you feel this pull, what do you do?
Are you the person you truly want to be? Are you focusing your energy on what matters most? Email NancyOelklaus@gmail.com to schedule a complimentary telephone coaching session. With clarity comes confidence.
Now that I have cleared my life of everything that takes more energy than it gives, I want to maintain this clear focus. That means I must pay attention. Two questions are guiding me:
Is the energy depletion within this other entity, and there’s either nothing I can do about it, or it would take more than I’m willing to give?
Is the energy depletion coming from my own perspective, which I am willing to change by shifting to love?
For the next week, let’s just sit with these questions as we notice the energy flow of our lives.
I’m taking things out of my life. Activities. Meetings. Organizations. People.
“How does this improve the quality of my life and help me fulfill my purpose?” is my guiding question.
I’m amazed at how even low-level mismatches between who I am and what I do drain my energy and thwart the fulfillment of my purpose. How about you?
At 4:00 a.m. I ate a twice-baked potato for breakfast, loaded with broccoli, chicken, and cheese.
One of the blessings of the inflammation that is in control of my body right now is lifting all the rules, which includes eating whenever and whatever I want.
I’m loving the freedom of it.
You write it: When have you experienced freedom like this?
“Rest,” she said. “Spend 15 minutes every day sitting in the sunshine.”
My mind says, “But what will I DO?” Then it starts envisioning projects—setting goals—imagining who I might recruit to help. But this time in my life is for healing—renewal—rest.
I surrender.
I feel the gentle breeze on my face. I see the beauty of the wooded hills. I truly listen to the birds.
Deeply, I know that all is well.
Incrementally, I heal.
A recent illness left me breathless. Speaking has been difficult. So as a friend drove me to a doctor’s appointment in Flagstaff, I said, “You talk. I’ll listen.”
I listened actively, silently engaged. Once or twice I wanted to ask clarifying questions, but I refrained. I just listened and experienced the joy of simply hearing my friend out. I want to do more of that.
You write it: Is there anything about your listening that you’d like to change?
I haven’t blogged in awhile because I’ve been ill. This morning I put on my simple gold spiral bracelet with the words, “Let go and let God.” I started this practice many years ago when my life had spun out of control, and I needed a Higher Power to take over. It was a reminder to myself to turn my life and my will over to the care of God.
Today, what I am turning over is my healing process, which is going very slowly and incrementally. What are you ready to turn over to the care of God and let go of?
These are the days when Birds come back--
A very few--a Bird or two--
To take a backward look.
These are the days when skies resume
The old--old sophistries of June--
A blue and gold mistake.
Oh fraud that cannot cheat the Bee--
Almost thy plausibility
Induces my belief.
Till ranks of seeds their witness bear--
And softly thro' the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf.
Oh Sacrament of summer days,
Oh Last Communion in the Haze--
Permit a child to join.
Thy sacred emblems to partake--
Thy consecrated bread to take
And thine immortal wine!
—Emily Dickinson, c. 1859
