Living a Passionate Life

Perfect Day

2011-12-23T15:52:00.000-08:00

The first song on Susan Boyle's Christmas CD, The Gift, is titled, Perfect Day. The words struck me this year as I listened to it over and over while driving in the past couple of weeks. The song describes sharing a day with someone and letting go of problems. The song is about being present and just enjoying the moment.

The chorus is simple and the words are repeated over and over. The simple words are "You're going to reap just what you sow." As I reflect on the last year the words are so true. This is a year I have been stuck. Not in all areas of my life but in certain areas. One of those areas is creating time to be creative. I need the creative process in my life. Being creative nourishes my soul.

In 2011, many days I said, "I can't." I have had some physical challenges. I have been stuck in the "I can'ts." I can't because my body is not strong enough. I can't paint, write, walk, run or whatever. I can't.

As I reflect on next year, I know I will reap what I sow in my relationships, my creative side, my work and my physical being. I will not stay in the "can't." I am sorry for those who look to my writings that I have been in stuck.

I want to thank my family for the "perfect days" we enjoyed.
I want to thank my friends for the "perfect days" we shared.
I want to thank my body for the "perfect days" I felt.
I want to thank the universe for the "perfect days" of wonderful work.

In the next few days, I will hold on to the perfect moments and be thankful. Happy Holidays to all and joy for the new year.

Reflecting on the Season of Hope

2011-01-19T06:38:00.000-08:00

He leaned on the counter shaking his head and vigorously scratching out the name on the return address. I had just run into the post office for a quick drop off of one last holiday card and was ready to turn around just as quickly out the door. The man still standing at the counter caught my eye. He began mumbling something inaudible as he looked at the letter.

Looking at me, he said, "I don't know how to stop these."

I paused in my tracks. "What did you say?" I inquired.

"I get these letters and I wish they would stop."

"Could you contact them and ask the them to stop sending the letters to you?" I asked not knowing what he was talking about or who sent them.

"I wish I had never been in that hospital. They keep sending me these checks. I just saw a pastor and asked him to bless it. I am just trying to keep a roof over my head."

I didn't know how to respond. I slowed down my sense of urgency to run out the door and quietly said, "Maybe you can think of these as a gift that you need right now. A gift until you get back on your feet."

The man turned to me, reached out, gave me a hug and quietly said, "Thank you."

The traffic was bumper to bumper on the four lanes in the small community. Everyone was rushing to finish their errands before the busy holidays. I was in the middle of the traffic rush and glancing ahead the light was green. Cars all around me were flowing at a speed that was probably faster than the posted speed limit. I was driving in the right lane of the two lane traffic on my side of the road. A car next to me suddenly opened their door and trash blew out. I thought, "How stupid to throw trash into the traffic right now."

The car door didn't close. A woman turned towards the door. I realized in an instance that she was going to jump. I looked at her. We locked eyes for just a moment. I screamed out through my closed vehicle, "Please don't. Don't jump." I knew she couldn't hear me but somehow we connected. She stared at me. I saw the tears streaming down her face. She turned and closed the car door.

I was shaking as I continued to drive. What just happened? I glanced in my rear view mirror. I could see the driver yelling at her. I could see her still crying.

As I continued driving and tried to calm my racing heart, I wondered what she was going through to make her want to take that action. If she had jumped, the chain reaction and the many lives she would have impacted in that split second would have been tragic. With the traffic moving so fast, she would have been critically hurt or killed. I would have slammed on my brakes (I am not sure why I didn't do this in the moment as it was) and other cars would have slammed into each other. Several people would have been hurt.

This woman, like the man earlier, was desperate. He wanted the checks to stop. She wanted to jump. I am relieved that she did not jump. I wish for her that in that moment she realized that she needed help but jumping was not the answer.

We may never know when we cross someone's path for a moment or a lifetime the true reason for our connection. We only know that we connected. I do know that in meeting even for a fleeting moment that there can be a connection and hope. We just need to take the time to slow down, be open, listen and be present.

I hope for you in 2011 that there will be hope for all that is possible. Happy New Year!

Rebuilding Ground Zero

2010-11-05T07:02:00.000-07:00

November 10, 2001...my husband and I were in New York city visiting colleges with my youngest daughter. As we were walking on Columbia University's campus, we heard whispers and then people pausing and looking around as if searching for something. People started hearing about a plane that had crashed near New York city. This was just two months after 911. Fear clutched at my throat. We walked to the car, turned on the radio and listened for any news. There was a plane crash but it did not appear to be another attack from a terrorist group. Still, we questioned, "Should
we continue with the tours or try to head for home?"

We continued with the planned tours and then, later in the day we walked down to Ground Zero, the former site of the Twin Towers. This was just two months after the terrorist attack and there were barricades keeping much of the area from sight. The scent of burning smoke still reached our eyes and noses. People were sitting on the sidewalks with tears or in prayer. The silence was eerie. People walked and conversed in quiet whispers.

October 28, 2010...almost nine years after the bombing. I was attending a conference in New York and had some free time. Within walking distance was the site of Ground Zero. I felt compelled to revisit the site. As I came closer, a rush of feelings came back from my previous visit years Businesses appeared to be back to "business as usual." People were rushing along toward jobs or errands.

The site had changed. Cranes graced the sky demonstrating the rebuilding of the former disaster. The pictures on the barricades were gone, new barricades surrounding the area were present and life appeared to be normal. I took some new shots of what is now referred to as Ground Zero and wondered if the people who work and live here think much about what happened here in 2001.

October 29, 2010...waiting for my flight to be announced for boarding. The waiting area was fairly busy. TV monitors were announcing the national and local news. As I glanced up to the monitor, a news item caught my attention. Airports were being put on high alert. I had noticed
that there were many delays from Pennsylvania, and yet, I was not aware of any major storms affecting the airlines. Our boarding gate was changed and I brushed my questions aside about the high alert.

Upon landing, I learned that the alert was a terrorist threat only this time it was packages discovered on UPS flights. As the next few days went by, more details unfolded as to the intent of the packages and the harm that could have occurred.

My plane landed safely and I was thankful. We cannot live in fear. We need to go on with our lives and rebuild but we have changed and we cannot forget those whose lives were lost on September 11, 2001.

Trusting the Universe

2010-10-14T07:20:00.000-07:00

We hear this over and over.Be intentional and the universe will provide. I continue to be amazed at how this holds true and when it has happened in my life. One of the times that was the most significant was after my husband, Bob, passed away. I worked very little from the time he was diagnosed with cancer until the time of his passing. We managed to get by from some deferred funds that we had. I had asked a friend to manage the calls for my business and I only accepted small projects.

After Bob's passing, I had no business. I was not sure what to do or how to restart the business as I had very little energy. I was immersed in grief. Then, I received a phone call from a client asking when and if I was planning on returning to work. He needed strategic planning for his organization. The call was a true "wake up call" to me to pick myself up and get moving. I began to accept some projects that got me back into the work mode and gave me a sense of moving forward.

I am once again reminded of how the universe provides by a recent incident. A colleague of mine and I have been developing a new business offering focusing on innovation. During the summer, I came across a conference on innovation. With the tight economy, I decided not to spend the money on the conference even though it was perfect for the work I am doing.

As I was browsing my LinkedIn news, there was a contest to enter to attend the conference that I had looked at in the summer. On a whim, I decided to enter my name. Within a week, I learned that I had won the contest! I just needed to make travel arrangements to New York city and find a place to stay. This was not a scam (although I thought it was at first).

Thank you, to the universe for once again letting me know that when we hold to our intentions and we are patient, the universe will open the door for us. Please share your stories with me of when the universe has opened the door for you.

Carrying the Weight of the World on Your Shoulders?

2010-10-08T06:35:00.000-07:00

We are in "topsy turvy" times as I recently heard a colleague say. One minute the media reports we are headed for a double dip recession and the next we hear that the recession ended in June of 2009. If you are waiting for the numbers and economists to determine the direction, you may feel like you are carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. Yes, we can be on pause for awhile but each one of us has an opportunity to create something positive out of this time.

In meeting with colleagues and clients I am hearing comments

such as, "I am not sure I want to keep doing what I am doing. The business climate has changed." Or, "People are behaving and responding very different." This is not good or bad. It is just different. A need is being created to think in an innovative way about what we want for our future. We can be burdened and behave as if we are carrying the weight of the world on our shoulders or we can choose to find opportunities to move forward in a new and positive way.

So you say, easier said than done! Start small. Look for the things that you enjoy doing, the people you want to be with and where you can have a positive impact in the world. Choose to be positive! Start each day with taking a walk, meditating or spending a few moments about what you have in your life that brings you joy.

These are times that challenge our very being. Find joy in laughter, a baby's smile, enjoying a fall day, or volunteering to help a friend or family member. Let the weight of the world go.

Expect the Unexpected and Be Pleasantly Surprised!

2010-08-23T06:19:00.001-07:00

Every evening my husband and I ask the same question to each other, "Do you think we will have a good sunset this evening?" This is our ritual throughout the year. We live on a lake in Maine looking west to the mountains. Every night that we are home we have the opportunity to expect the unexpected and be surprised. Often times, we may not think the sun will break through the clouds or the sky does not appear to offer the beauty of other nights, and then we are surprised to see pinks, purple and gray light up against a backdrop of blue.

In life, w have choices. We can expect the unexpected and be pleasantly surprised or we can assume that things will not turn out the way we hoped. I am privileged to meet and coach many people during a time of work and life transition. When I first meet a person in transition, he or she may often meet me at my doorstep discouraged, angry and unsure of what the future will bring. As we begin working together, he or she may begin to let go and slowly start allowing themselves to see the future possibilities. This does not happen overnight. The future begins to unfold in small steps. People open the door to conversation about the future. They begin to be surprised by other's generosity of listening, sharing stories and providing support and leads for new job options.

When we are not open to possibilities, than we may not experience the joy of expecting the unexpected. We may stay stuck. We may operate from a negative base of "things won't work out." We become impatient. We want things to happen under our terms and in our timeline. When we actively wait and begin to expect the unexpected, we can experience surprise and joy.

I learned to watch the sunsets and see the beauty unfold before my eyes. I cannot rush it or predict it. I need to be patient and allow myself to let go of my expectations. Then, I wait for the unexpected to appear and experience the joy of being surprised.

A Tribute to a Great Physician

2010-07-13T10:28:00.000-07:00

He took my call even though the clock said the working day was officially done.

"What's going on, Diane?" he gently asked with a voice filled with sincerity and concern.

"Oh, I am not feeling well and was wondering..." I replied.

The doctor on the other end of the line calmed my fears, once again, and answered my questions. He had been my doctor for longer than I could remember. He devoted himself to his patients giving them the attention that they needed. He would make each patient feel that they were the only person that mattered when he was seeing or talking with them.

During my late husband's last days, he would arrive at our home at the end of what I am sure was a very, long day. With his scuffed, old brown medical bag in hand, he would walk in, spend time with Bob who was in a coma and I know he knew there was nothing more he could do. He would talk with the family that was present in a soothing, reassuring and comforting voice and then tell us to call him if we needed him even into the wee hours of the night or morning.

This was my physician, Dr. Hugh Harwood. As of June 30, 2010, he officially let go of his private practice and has gone on to do other things in the medical field. There are not many doctors like Dr. Harwood. He went, in my mind, above and beyond. He cared deeply. He helped me navigate through all of my pain, loss and joys that have been part of my life. He always listened.

With all of the changes in health care coming, I hope we do not lose the "Dr. Harwoods" of the world. Doctors who are willing to go beyond for the needs of their patients. Dr. Harwood was a wonderful doctor. I appreciate and will miss all that he did for me over the years.

Thank you, Dr. Harwood.

Walking for Others

2010-06-25T06:24:00.000-07:00

The sounds emerge ever so softly like gentle music to my ears. They begin even before the first rays of light announcing dawn. I love the peacefulness which comes at about 4:00 a.m. The time is always the time when I am tired from walking all night. Sore blisters are growing in my sneakers and this year my back hurt from an injury and my legs ached. I wanted to say, "Okay, I made my point and I don't need to walk anymore for cancer." Yet, the birds serenade me with their predawn chorus and at that moment my energy is renewed.

I am speaking about Relay for Life. This year, my walk began at 6:30 pm the evening before with the survivor walk and this year at 4:00 am I have walked about ten slow miles. I have walked past the luminaries lit for family, friends and strangers all who lost their fight to cancer or who are battling cancer (a term I hate). This is my commitment to fighting back. It is for HOPE for a CURE.

This year is special. Our family team dedicated our walk to my sister, Becky, who left us in 2003. We were Becky's Forget-ME-Nots. Little purple/blue flowers that symbolize hope, remembrance and are the colors of Relay. This year I walked with one of six survivor medals that Becky wore when she walked.

The luminaries burn all night and remind me as I walk the reason I am here. Both of my daughters and my stepfather walk all night long. This year we included my nine month old grandson who joined us in his stroller. We walked with him all night long. Perhaps, by the time he reaches young adulthood, there will not be a need for relays. Hope will have become a cure. Until that time, I will be here each year.

This blog is written in memory and honor of Mom, Bob, Becky, Nannie, Bampi, Deb, Maureen, Cindy, Janise, Jessica, Alan, Diana and many, many others.

Haiti and the Olympics: The Human Spirit

2010-04-09T10:15:00.000-07:00

The last several posts have been about finding your passion and aspects of career and life transition. I need to shift and write about Haiti and the Olympics. The pictures and stories of Haiti which are slowly fading in our minds truly speak to the human spirit and the willingness to rebuild. I am just returning from the side of the island that was untouched by the earthquake which felt odd and brought back thoughts of Haiti once again.

The contrast of Haiti and our attention (with the help of the media) from the devastation to watching the Olympics and the determination of the athletes seeking medals was amazing. I am not saying that when different events occur we should not shift gears. The shift is in part due to how long our attention lasts and the need to get on with things in our own lives.

What holds my attention long past the event, is the human spirit. The passion and will to achieve what in some instances (as Greg Brooks, a local Maine treasure hunter's, determination to deliver supplies despite numerous roadblocks illustrated) seems impossible. Even the people in Haiti who have struggled for so long and yet they continue to endure. With the rains coming, people are gathered together under tarps, makeshift hospitals continue to operate and orphanages bursting at the walls are taking in children. Many are showing the signs of poor nutrition and the impact of poverty. I hope, we all will not go back to our lives and forget the human struggle in that part of the world.

The Olympians, on the other hand, have physical bodies that are fit and although they may sustain an athletic injury, they too have sheer determination. Many of their stories were of physical and emotional pain and the ability to overcome the pain in order to win medals for their countries. Such pride! Such determination!

As the Olympics are now part of history and stories of Haiti appear less and less, I hope we all hold onto the power of the human spirit, the vision of hope and the passion for life and the gold.

Happy New Year...Holding On and Letting Go

2010-01-18T16:16:00.000-08:00

I wrote but did not publish this blog before the news of the Haiti earthquake and aftermath. This tragedy has touched so many people around the world and the outpouring is amazing. As I publish this blog, it is not without sensitivity to the greater needs in Haiti. With that said.....

For many of us, the New Year brings new possibilities, hopes and dreams for a bright year. Included in this are lists of New Year resolutions that we vow to stick to in the months and year ahead. Losing weight, stopping smoking, getting a new job, getting in shape, finding our passion and the list goes on and on. Many of us start these with sheer determination and stay with them until something abruptly changes our good intentions or they are forgotten.

This year I might suggest taking a look at what you are holding on to and what you need to let go of in order for new opportunities to come into your work, relationships or life. Resolutions give us hope but when we hold on to other things, our resolutions may be impeded. For example, I am trying to simplify my life. As part of this, I decided to let go of my external office space when my lease is up at the end of February. This was not an easy decision. I wrestled with all kinds of issues that came up as to what my professional space is "supposed" to look like.

I am hardly ever in my office as I travel to different business locations. I have kept an office for fourteen years. I have had space that I have only used one or two days a week. I decided to move my office to my home where people can enjoy the beauty of the lake and mountain view. This is located only three miles from my existing space.

This, to others, may seem like such an easy decision especially given today's economic climate, but for me it is less about the economics and more about simplifying. I am always searching for files that are in my home office when I need them in my external office or vice versa. By having one location I am simplifying my work life and creating more balance in my personal life. The economics will be good which I cannot deny as being part of my decision.

In my personal life, I made a decision with my husband, Jeff, to sell our snowmobiles. Another hard decision for me which had, once again, less to do with economics, and more to do with emotional ties. I have been a snowmobiler since I was young, although on and off during my adult life. My late husband revitalized my interest in the sport and we enjoyed many trips together in Northern Maine. I kept the sleds after he passed. Then after my breast cancer, I enjoyed knowing I could still drive the sled and still ride the trails. I love the beauty of the Maine woods, the speed of the sleds and all that is part of snowmobiling. Yet, at this time in my life with Jeff our interests have changed. Just like my office, the decision conjured up many emotions for me. Part of the emotional tie was to my former life with my late husband which I was still holding on to through the sleds. Jeff and I enjoyed the sleds but it was not the same because we have other interests.

I know that by letting my office go and selling the snowmobiles, new opportunities will come into my life. There will be room and time for other things that fit my life as it is now. When we hold on too tight, new things cannot come in. There is no room.

I wish you all a happy new year filled with the joy of letting go so that new possibilities can enter your work, relationships and life. Look at what your holding on to and let go and see what emerges!

Happy Holidays!

2009-12-24T11:30:00.001-08:00

Holiday Greetings,
I am hoping that during this season of peace and joy that you are able to take time for yourself and to reflect on the beauty of the season. I want to thank all of you for reading my stories and I look forward to sharing more in 2010. Peace to you all, Diane

Vulnerability, Authenticity and Passsion

2009-12-07T08:00:00.000-08:00

The ashes were still smoldering when the phone call came through at eight on a cold, brisk morning. I was still shaking the cobwebs out of my brain and trying to absorb the words that were being shared on the other end of the line.

"The house burnt to the ground?" I manged to stammer out loud with, "Is everyone okay?" The reply was a quiet, " I don't know if everyone got out."

Stunned, I quickly dressed and rushed to my car to drive the short one mile to where the fire occurred. There was the family, standing in the cold, wearing just pajamas and jackets that they had time to grab, looking at what was once their home and business. Everyone was safe including the cats. With one family member recovering from cancer the devastation of another tragedy on this family was hard to comprehend.

In the following days, the community surrounded the family with an outpouring of love, food, clothing and offers for places to live. The family had a hard time accepting all of the well wishes, gifts and visits, including complete strangers who offered a hand.

Why is it that so many of us have a hard time accepting support? Why do we find it so hard to be in a position to need the help of others? My belief is that when we need help due to a devastating fire, a job loss, a divorce, a death in our family or a diagnosis of an illness, we become vulnerable. And, when we are vulnerable we are left with just our core being exposed. For many of us, this is when we are our most authentic self. We cannot hide, we cannot mask what is happening to us and we need (although we push it away) the help of others.

In my last two blogs, I have encouraged you to create a vision for yourself and look at what you are passionate about in your life and work. Often times, if we reflect on the times when we were vulnerable and the most authentic, we will see where our passion lies. When we are vulnerable, we are often forced to look at what matters to us, who matters to us and reflect on how we want to spend our time.

After I lost my husband, I wanted to paint even though I had never painted before in my life. I reached out to a local artist. She helped me start and that was six years ago and I am so thankful and still painting. After my breast cancer, I wanted to write and share stories and here I am. When we are vulnerable, we may open up to new opportunities that allow our passion and our true authentic self shine through for all to see. Most importantly, it allows us to understand and see our core self.

I hope you are finding your passion through allowing yourself to be vulnerable and authentic and searching your soul for what motivates you in your work, relationships and life.

Passion

2009-11-24T05:36:00.000-08:00

November is here. With November comes craft fairs, craft shows and many announcements of events showcasing mad-in-Maine products. I love going to the craft fairs not for the products but for the pride in what the producer of the products displays. Hand made quilts, knitted mittens and hats, holiday ornaments, greeting cards, wreaths and hand made wooden toys and furniture are among the many items displayed. What I love about the fairs is the expression of passion that the creators have for what they do.

I often ask, “How did you get started?” The response is “Oh, I started years ago. I have always loved knitting.” or “I love making wooden toys and knowing that children will enjoy what I made.” Crafters’ true passion emerges with enthusiasm and such genuine joy for what they do.

In my last blog, I asked you to create a vision for yourself. As part of your vision, ask yourself what motivates you? What are you passionate about? Do you enjoy working with your hands creating something for others? Do you enjoy working with numbers? Are you drawn to opportunities where new ideas are created and implemented?

My passion is photography. I remember the first time I was given a camera. My high school yearbook shows a photo of me with a camera in hand. My camera is never far from reach. I never have too many photos of sunsets or loons or the ocean. I am always seeking the next great photo.

Another passion is my genuine interest in hearing people’s stories. I am a story teller so I am drawn to others’ stories. I want to know what paths that life drew them along and when they made changes what motivated those changes. I love seeing a person’s eyes light up when they talk about what their passions. Sometimes it is through the storytelling that the true passion surfaces and the emotion in their eyes show.

As you create your vision, find your passion! In future blogs, I will share how to follow that passion. Enjoy and happy Thanksgiving!

Letting Go and Reinventing Ourselves

2009-11-03T12:14:00.000-08:00

With camera in hand, I paused to see one lone leaf hanging on as the wind blew determined to tear it from the branches. There were many beautiful scenes of branches and leaves and I was on a quest for the perfect fall shot but this one leaf captured my lens and my mind. I was struck by how hard the leaf was holding on even though the leaves around "it" were gone and the season was changing.

During the past year, I have worked with several clients and have found myself in conversation with people who in these economic times are questioning what they will do next. Many have a desire to try new things, to explore new possibilities and to reinvent themselves. These are challenging and exciting times and can be filled with anxiety and fear. Some people are holding on and others are trying to let go.

The first step to reinventing ourselves is to create a vision of what is you want for yourself. How do you see yourself in the future? What do you enjoy doing? What environment do you like being in, a team or working independently? Who do you like working with or collaborating with? Do you like projects? Do you like creating or more analytical work? What values do you hold? What keeps you motivated? What are you passionate about?

Often times, in reinventing ourselves we, like the leaf, hold on to our old visions of ourselves. What was, what used to be keeps us bound in a lost reality. We need to ask ourselves, what am I holding on to that is getting in the way of creating my vision for the future? What do I need to let go of? How do I transition to a new season for myself?

This begins a series of blogs focusing on “Reinventing Ourselves.” I hope you join us on this journey.

Community

2009-06-22T11:52:00.000-07:00

In the summer, our quiet lakeside community in Maine emerges into a wave of activity. Although most of us are year round residents, the winter keeps us in and the summer months draw us out to our docks where we lounge by the tranquil water. We wave enthusiastically to each other and send our “hellos” across the lakefront. As we pass on our walks, we pause to greet each other and briefly catch up on family news.

In one part of our community, there is a practice that intrigues me. Several houses in a row, have chairs, many just plastic well worn chairs, in a circle on their lawns. One lawn is punctuated with white chairs, another with green and still another mix of old and new, plastic and wooden. These chairs send a message of community. The chairs invite people into the circle of conversation, storytelling and laughter. The sounds of connecting after a long winter. A community of summer friends and family.

As I walk past these chairs, undefined in their stature, on my daily walk with my dogs, I often wonder about the stories that are shared. Are they the stories of dreams for the future, dreams lost or stories of connections and relationships? I wonder how one is invited into the circle? How do you know when to begin or when to end?

Community brings each of us a sense of connection in a world that is full of anxiety and concern. In many ways our world of community has grown by the use of Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter, but the real live connections bring the real sense of understanding. A longing for community is resurfacing. Coffee shops with lounge chairs invite customers in to stay and maybe greet and talk with others, even strangers.

Neighborhoods and churches in times past created community. People are returning to these as vehicles to build connection to others and community.

Over the years, I have been blessed by being a part of a variety of communities. Mostly, these communities were created by women who needed to come together to help one another through storytelling.

Recently, one of these communities reunited for an afternoon after not being together for three years. The group initially came together fifteen or twenty years ago with the assistance of a facilitator. I actually joined the community when it was transforming form a formal gathering to informal. Over the years, we have connected and reconnected at times, meeting at the home of one of the women or for brunch at some relaxing place. We share recent stories of our lives, the heartache, the joys and dreams. Then, we depart scattering to different areas of the country with hugs and smiles to hold us until the next time we come together.

In the work that I do as a facilitator, I work hard to create an opportunity to build community by having participants sit at round tables or in a circle. I am reminded when people are in seated classroom style how a sense of community and connection is stifled.

So, why does community mater? In these trying times, community gives us the sense of belonging. A community provides us a way to support one another, spend time listening to what is important and connecting in a way that can keep our spirit alive. I hope you find community in your life to help during these challenging times.

Reinventing Ourselves: One Bloom at a Time

2009-03-30T10:56:00.000-07:00

I received an email from a person recently who I had not spoken to or heard from in quite some time. He had seen my name somewhere and wondered if it was truly me. I confirmed in a return email that “Yes, indeed. It was me wearing a different hat.”

I then inquired if he was still doing what I remembered him doing professionally. A quick email reply back indicated that “no, no, no” and he had changed jobs and industries twice since I last heard from him.

With these economic times and businesses cutting positions, many are faced with reinventing aspects of their lives. Companies are offering voluntary resignations which are giving people the opportunity to look at their jobs and careers and decide what else they might do. With people facing job eliminations, the same questions are being asked. People want to know if this is the time to “reinvent.” Yes, I do think this is the time.

During my life, I have reinvented aspects of my life numerous times. Sometimes I initiated the change and sometimes it was initiated for me. In every case, a positive result emerged. In the moment, though, I may not have felt confident that the end result would be good. Change can be difficult and I know myself that I have a tendency to resist at first and then dive in.

In reinventing me, at times, it has been physical, at times personal and at times, professionally. Physically, I have made many changes. I grew up with asthma at a time when the best treatment was considered to be limiting physical activity. In my twenties, I realized that the more active I became the stronger my lungs were. I started running! I never did pursue a marathon but I still am physically active today. I remember back to those first runs. My legs seem to drag, my sneakers felt like weights after only a few minutes. My lungs ached and cried for me to stop. I persisted, though, and now when I am not able to be physically active, I feel something is missing.

Professionally, one of the biggest risks and opportunity for reinventing myself was when I left the comfort of a corporate setting, paycheck and benefits to start my own business. This was a life long dream of mine to manage my own business. But how scary! What if I couldn’t find work? What if I could not provide for my daughters? I was a single mother and in a new relationship. What would be the impact on those close to me? I worked hard on developing my business plan and on June 19, 1996, I opened the doors to my business and have never looked back. Yes, there have been uncertain times but there has been great satisfaction knowing that I am in charge of my destiny. I am the one that determines how much I work, how hard I want to work and what I will do for work.

Whenever I have not held true to who I am, the “reinventing” has not been sustained. With economic uncertainty, new opportunities will appear and new industries will spring up. This may mean that some will take temporary roles, due to the economy, as a bridge to new opportunities.

We never know what is around the corner for us. I am supporting people who are facing job eliminations. I have seen people reinvent themselves in some very significant ways. Two keys to success is believing in yourself and the vision of your new self. Having a support system of family, friends and colleagues who will listen to your ideas, fears and excitement can ease the way.

I am always reminded of Rebeka Luken’s words, “If it is to be, it is up to me.”
This could be the perfect time for reinventing yourself. Spring, the season of new beginnings, is just around the corner.

If you would like to share your story of how you reinvented yourself, please share here or send me an email at prdunton@msn.com. Looking forward to hearing your story.

Time for Compassion

2008-12-23T11:40:00.000-08:00

The line in the department store was long keeping with the holiday bustle. Patient customers juggled their items in their arms or checked what they had in their carriages making sure nothing was forgotten. Time was running out and one trip was all that would fit into many of their hectic schedules. Cashiers could barely tilt their heads upward to meet the eyes or see the faces of their harried customers.

I waited in line, behind a chattering man, ready to cash out in front of me. He was talking about his family members to the cashier who he obviously knew. He was chatting about how food and paper goods were being consumed at a rapid pace. His break time was being used to purchase more milk, eggs and basic items that seemed to be diminishing quickly with extra people in his home.

Suddenly, another man with presumably his daughter rushed to get the attention of the cashier as she ended the transaction of the chatting man and began processing mine.

“Excuse me, excuse me. Did you find my wallet? I just went through here.”

The cashier glanced up briefly, looked quickly around and then began reaching for my purchases to scan. In the same breath, she simply said, “Nothing left here.”

“But, but you just waited on me,” he stammered.

“No, it must not have been me,” she replied.

“Remember, I had the fifty dollar bill,” he said as he tried again to get her attention.

The cashier brushing the annoying man aside continued with my transaction. The man’s face showed sheer panic. Maybe the only money he had left for Christmas shopping was in that wallet. Maybe a photo of a loved one or maybe his identity was in his wallet. As the cashier continued to ignore the man, he began feeling in his pockets, opening his jacket with a continued and rising look of panic and anxiety.

“Are you sure it is not here?” he tried again for her attention.

As I watched all of this unfolding, I saw the outline of what appeared to be a man’s shaped wallet in an inner vest worn to keep the cold chill air away. There secure in its resting place was his wallet. Quietly, I asked if he had checked his inside vest. Startled by my speaking to him, he reached in his vest pocket and felt the lost wallet.

“Thank you,” he said quickly as his face softened and he turned without another word.

The cashier paused and looked into my eyes, “Thank you for helping him. We do have good people who shop here.”

In these trying times, we all need to be reminded to slow down and watch what is going on around us. We need to look at the faces. See the joy and see the pain and fear. With cold, harsh winter weather barring down on us, jobs being lost and family income tight, we all need to take the time for each other. We need to take a minute and show compassion. In just taking one moment, maybe we can ease someone’s fear, pain or anxiety. Compassion and an outstretched hand may help these troubling times feel gentler and allow the “good” to come out in all of us.

May you all hold the spirit of the season, peace and joy, in your heart. May you offer compassion in these trying times.

Happy Holidays and thank you for being patient this year as fewer stories were written during my recovery. Look for more in 2009. Peace to you all.

Diane

Safety: Reality or Illusion

2008-12-02T06:49:00.000-08:00

On a cool fall day I prepared to drive to Boston for an all day conference. The decision to drive the two hour commute the morning of the conference required me to get out of bed very early on a Saturday morning to arrive on time. This was a struggle for me as I cherish my lazy, sleepy Saturday mornings sitting by the window looking out at the lake with a hot cup of coffee in hand. This particular Saturday was no different when it came to wanting to be lazy and I ended up leaving the house later than I should have.

As I traveled down the highway in my midsized sports utility vehicle (downsized due to fuel costs), I found the roads were good and the traffic was moderate. I was pleased with the progress I was making and confident that I would arrive at my destination on time. In fact, I surmised that I would even have time to stop for a refill on my coffee. As I sang out loud to the country tunes that were playing on my favorite radio station, I was enjoying my early morning outing. Suddenly, I felt a strong vibration and a loud noise emerge from my vehicle. I was in the passing lane and knew that I needed to quickly get to the breakdown lane. As my speed drastically reduced and I luckily avoided being hit by rushing cars that came from behind I managed to maneuver my car safely to the side of the road.

As the car came to an abrupt stop, my body was shaking and I suddenly began to feel a wave of relief from the fact that no one had hit me. I emerged from the car and proceeded to inspect it. The right back rear tire had, much to my surprise, literally exploded and had begun to smolder.

What had happened? Had I hit something in the road? Had I failed to notice an obstacle in the road waiting to puncture a tire? I called AAA and within a short period of time the tire was replaced. I then was back on the road; however, this time I proceeded much more cautiously as I continued on to my destination.

Later, as I began to reply in my mind the events from earlier that day, I was struck by how safe and secure I felt in my SUV, not unlike, many of us. The bigger the SUV the safer we feel. The same holds true for some of us in other aspects of our lives, including our jobs, investments, health and relationships. Not the size but the illusion of being safe. But is this safety only an illusion or is it in fact a reality?

As our economy reels from the financial global crisis of the last two months, material goods out of reach in some cases due to loan or credit restrictions and hundreds of jobs teetering on the brink of elimination, we are given reason to pause and ask, "How safe and secure are we? How safe and secure am I?"

These plunges into the depths of uncertainty have many treading water and assessing their relationship with money, material goods, jobs and even relationships. What can we feel safe about? How can we survive these turbulent waters around us?

For me, it is a process of integrating what was, what is and what the future may hold. As with my recent cancer journey in the past year, I look to understanding and integrating, knowing I will never be the same. Things have changed for me. At some level, uncertainty will always be my lifelong companion having experienced cancer and being a survivor.

I felt, like I did in my car, safe in my physical body. Yes, I did have aches and pains, but nothing significant. Yet, a cancer was growing inside my body. A cancer that was not visible on the outside but had the potential, undetected, to ravage my body. The financial crisis crept up on us, as a country, like a cancer, ready to wreak havoc on our lives as individuals and corporations.

So what do we do to crate a sense of safety, both physical and financial? Or does such as sense of safety even exist? Is it merely an illusion. For me, it is focusing on the simple things in life that bring us joy and assess how our time is spent. It is looking at family, friends, community, jobs, money and material goods and asking the questions relevant to each of us. For me, it is the following:

How am I spending my time? What can I do to nurture my relationships with family and friends? Am I reaching out to others or am I waiting for others to call me? Am I sending a card or email to family or friends whether they are in crisis or not? Am I listening to them?

Am I finding ways to give back to the community? Am I sharing m good fortune with others who may be less fortunate? Am I working to make a difference in others' lives?

Am I living up to my full potential? Am I doing work that fuels the passion in me? If not, how can I bring elements of passion into my life? Is my relationship with money and material goods keeping me free from anxiety? Am I content with what I have right in this moment, knowing I have a warm home and food for me and my family?

Lastly, are there things I can give away that I know longer need? How can I simplify my life to focus on the true enjoyment that life can bring?

Life is how we spend our time now, not for the future as we never know what the future may hold. Safety is an illusion we create; letting go of that illusion can release us from striving to hold onto the things in life that may not bring us true joy. Focusing on family, friends and giving back can bring us the wealth that money and material goods cannot. Maybe, that is the real safety that we can create. A sense of knowing we have made a difference.

Ruby...New Hope

2008-06-29T17:54:00.000-07:00

The cool ocean breeze laps at my face as I sit quietly on the shore of the coastal Maine inlet. Since my cancer diagnosis last September, the urge to write had seemed to fade to some unknown place. In my patience for the return of ink to paper, I wondered what would create the urge to write again. I thought I had lost my ability and joy in being a storyteller- something that has been part of me since I was a child sitting at the dining room table.

Within the last few days, I finished a pet portrait of an adorable shaggy haired golden doodle named Ruby. Like my writing, I wondered if the desire and passion for painting would return. My time and this painting were donated for an auction held to raise money for an educational institution. When I agreed to the painting, I did not realize how difficult I would find putting brush to white canvas.

Ruby was painful for me at first, both emotionally and physically. Where do I begin? What if I have forgotten how to paint? What do I use as a background? How do I capture the sparkle and mischief in Ruby’s eyes? Why did I commit to this? How can I even lift a paintbrush when my arms and muscles still ache from the reconstructive surgery?

The painting of Ruby was even more painful as only a month before I learned that one of the people whom I cherish and hold dear- my art instructor- was fighting her own battle with cancer. Her diagnosis, like mine and all of us who have experienced this disease, was a shock. She entered the hospital and had to stay for over three weeks, was sent home, then had to re-enter for more treatment. How could I paint without her prodding and critiquing me along the way?

Over a two to three week timeframe, I persisted in making Ruby come alive on canvas. Colors of golden light and washes of sienna were added one stroke at a time. I finished Ruby and lovingly packed the portrait to be shipped off to her owner. Within a few days, an email had arrived saying, “This is fantastic. We love it. She is our first dog and she means a lot to us.” My family members thought Ruby’s portrait was one of my best. That might be so, but it wasn’t the easiest. I look forward to more painting in the days to come, though, and know I can’t let it go.

The writing began to emerge slowly, like the painting and like everything else that was part of my pre-cancer life. A few days ago, after spending months taking long walks with my labradoodle, I tried running. Not far…not a long distance…but it was a beginning. As I ran at a slow and deliberate pace, I knew that the writing, like the painting and running, would return. As my strong legs carried me words began to flow in my mind. Running has always been meditative for me. I write in my head before putting pen to paper. I design keynotes, retreats and plan business strategies. The running allows my mind to be creative. As I ran intermittently, I knew the writing would flow again if I was patient.

As I write this, I am preparing to facilitate a planning retreat for twelve people. I arrived early to this quiet Oceanside inn. The ocean always brings me a sense of tranquility. I spent the afternoon roaming around exploring the back roads that led to nowhere other than a circle around the harbor. The late evening sun bathes the lobster boats, dingys and pleasure boats in a warm glow of yellow. The clicking of my camera alerts me to the desire to watercolor the photos I am now capturing on film. A child’s voice calls out, “Daddy.” The seagulls cry overhead. The moon slowly rises over the trees, becoming more luminescent as the sun disappears into the western sky.

Yes, I will write. Yes, I will paint. I hope you will join me from time to time on my journey of renewed hope, new dreams, new possibilities and a new future beyond cancer.

Thank you, Ruby, for helping me take the first step.

Courage and Pooh

2008-03-05T08:31:00.000-08:00

"Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." A. A. Milne creator of Winnie the Pooh

As a young girl, I remember falling in love with Winnie the Pooh and his friends, Piglet, Eeyore and Tigger. My childhood nickname was similar to Pooh's, so I felt I had an affinity to Pooh. Pooh was carefree, pausing to reflect on the simple things in life and had one primary focus, honey. Oh, honey brought such joy to that little, round cuddly yellow bear. As I matured, it seemed that our names were all we had in common.

Through my teens and early twenties, I lost touch with Pooh. I lost touch with the reflective, curious side of myself so prominent in Pooh. As a teen and into my early twenties, I was intense, driven and out to make my mark on the world. In college, I delved into student activities and was elected as the first chairperson of the group. I worked hard at my classes and created a strong network of friends. Upon graduation, I jumped right into a management training program with a Fortune 500 company and began what was my goal of climbing the corporate ladder.

When my two precious daughters came into the world in my late twenties, I introduced them to Pooh through reading night time stories of his adventures. I fell in love with him and his friends all over again as I read. A.A. Milne's stories to my children. We read about the questions that Winnie the Pooh posed to his friend Christopher Robin, his responses to his less than optimistic friend Eeyore and of his sheer delight in sharing with his friends, Piglet and Tigger. Seeing the joy in my daughters' bright eyes as we laughed at silly Pooh, reminded me of the importance of holding on to the delight of the simple things in life and what curiosity can bring.

As my daughters grew older, our reading time with Pooh slipped away. I had painted a life size Pooh and Piglet on their playroom wall but they soon outgrew the play room. Then when we moved, the life size Pooh was left behind to be painted over by the new owners. Time escaped me. Life moved on and I was busy.

Pooh appeared briefly, when on a trip to Disney with my daughters, a stuffed Pooh caught my attention in a souvenir store. I walked by the display of Pooh sitting graciously on a chair with an indiscriminate look about him. I kept walking by him as I began to reminisce about my favorite character. My oldest daughter, watching me, finally blurted out, "Mom, why don't you treat yourself and buy Pooh. You know how you love him."

Many thoughts raced through my mind. "How silly of her! I am a grown woman! I could not buy Pooh for myself. I would not have the room in my suitcase to carry him back home. I shouldn't spend the extra money that was to be used on souvenirs for the girls or family back home." Then, in an instant, I knew I could not leave him behind. I picked up the soft Pooh bear and headed to the register. Pooh was still my love and now, once again, he was mine.

Life became busy again. Time was too short. Pooh remained a fixture on a chair in my bedroom. Pooh changed chairs when I moved to new homes, but he remained a presence in my bedroom.

As I began thinking about writing this blog (and I realize that it has been quite some time), I thought about courage. Throughout my recovery from breast cancer, the word, courage has been said to me over and over by friends. When I share with them my decision to have a bilateral mastectomy and my experience, friends have responded, "You have such courage."

What is courage and what constitutes courage? In Webster's dictionary, courage is defined as "mental or moral strength to persevere, or withstand danger, fear or difficulty. To be courageous is to be brave." As I searched the internet for quotes on courage, my old friend Pooh appeared as one of the first quotes on the list.

As I reflected on courage, I realized that I do not feel I have had courage or been courageous. I compare my experience to all the people that I think have been brave and courageous. Of course, I do not measure up to them! I just did what I knew I needed to do. I was braver than I believed possible for me, stronger than I seemed to ever have been before. Suddenly Pooh's quote put it in simple terms for me. I have been courageous and I have been brave.

This is the human spirit. We all have that place in us that courage and being brave rest just waiting for the moment in which the human spirit shines. I have seen the spirit shine in others in their darkest moments. It is part of us.

Yes, Pooh, I do have courage. I have been brave. Thank you, Pooh and to my friends for stating it so simply. I have been more courageous than I believed I could be as I have traveled on this cancer journey. I know I will continue to be brave as I continue to heal.

Reflection-Being Still

2007-11-28T05:19:00.000-08:00

As I catch my reflection in the mirror, outwardly I appear the same as I was before my surgery for cancer. Hair flowing softly around my face, a body that reflects a year of devotion to exercise and a smile that appears when people ask me how I am doing. Inwardly, I am changing and healing in ways that I do not even fully know. This is a time of reflection and of being still. My body is working hard to heal and I need to be still to allow that to happen. This is a very difficult challenge for me. My body needs to rest. My mind, even in the wee hours of morning light, is unable.

What about my work? What about my clients? How will I decorate my house for the holidays?How will I prepare for the holidays? How will I pay bills and keep up with things during this time of no work as a business owner who is self-employed? When will I be able to pick up a paint brush and add strokes to a canvas?

My arms tire easily just from writing or responding to emails, yet my mind is racing. Three weeks have passed since my surgery. A surgery that freed my body of breast cancer, a surgery that freed me from the threat and anxiety that had been a gray cloud over my head for 20 years of biopsies.

The day of surgery, I felt a peace wash over me. No more breast biopsies. The bilateral mastectomy would take that risk away along with the cancer.

The first two weeks post surgery presented many challenges. Tiny movements of my arms and chest muscles posed difficult. I have been amazed at how much we use our chest muscles to do the simplest of tasks. I always thought it was my arms. I have discovered it was my chest muscles doing most of the work! The kitchen faucet which is turned on by a push/pull movement was nearly impossible for the first three weeks and is still not easy. Opening doors, reaching for a coffee mug on a shelf above shoulder height or trying to wash and dry my hair takes longer. My body is in slow motion. Allowing my family to help me with even the simplest of tasks, like bathing, has challenged me to let go.

Humor has helped get me through some of the tough moments. Family members have competed on who can style my hair the best (my oldest daughter won that contest), who drives the best, which means who avoids all the bumps in the road, (my youngest daughter won that feat), and how to wash my hair without getting the bandages wet (I will keep the winner of that task a secret!).

As I begin to heal inside, I need to give myself credit for what I can do at this early point. I need to give myself permission to take it easy and that naps (several in a day) are a good thing. In the fast paced world that we live in and is the norm, being still is hard. To be patient with the healing is hard. I have high expectations of myself that I need to let go.

And then, there is my body. The reconstructive process has barely begun. As I look at my body, the changed image is hard to view. Stitches, swelling and bruising are prominent. I am disfigured in a way that my eyes were not ready to see. As an artist, there is a certain point in a painting when I want to toss whatever I am working on into the trash. As I continue to work, the finished product turns into a beautiful piece of art. My wise daughter of twenty-three years, reminded me of what transpires when I paint. She said, "Mom, your body, like your paintings, is just beginning to transform. You will be beautiful."

Yes, if I can let go, be patient and still to allow all this to happen, this process of healing, reflecting and learning, will be good. I must keep a sense of humor and laugh at the little things that I find a challenge. This is another part of my journey and as I write this on Thanksgiving day, I know I have a lot to give thanks for this year.

All About Time

2007-10-30T05:27:00.000-07:00

"Oh, life is so busy. I can't seem to get it all done. I need more hours in a day."

How often we hear this expressed in words similar to these. We live in a world where it has almost become a status symbol to say, I am so busy. I am guilty of this myself. I never seem to have enough time to write, market my business, paint or work on all the endless projects I have around my house. I never have enough time.

And yet, since my diagnosis of cancer, the hours are slow. The time cannot move fast enough. I am waiting for my surgery; a surgery that will change my body image, my sense of who I am in my physical self and, at the same time, potentially save my life at this time. I am lucky. The cancer in my breast has been caught early. I have been diligent about having regular check ups after facing many biopsies and losing a sister to breast cancer.

But what about time....the days go by slowly. I wrote in one of my blogs about tidying up before a trip or vacation. This waiting for surgery has the same feel. I have cleaned my office, washed windows at home and organized my art supplies. These are all tasks that are long overdue, and yet, I needed to do them now.

This is a journey that I did not think I would have to face. I thought, "Two sisters with cancer, it will skip me. I am healthy. I am strong, so surely it will skip me." Well, I was wrong. This is a journey that has begun.

I have lots of time right now. Time to think. Time to reflect. Time to just be. No matter how busy I try to be, the days still have 24 hours to them. The sun rises and the sun sets. I have 24 hours to fill and days waiting for what my life will be on the other side of the surgery.

Time is only what we have in this moment. How can I best use this time? Today, the day before my surgery, I felt peaceful. The waiting is almost past. I spent the day walking on the beach with a loved one and my two favorite puppies. I photographed a horse running through the ocean waves. I watched a rainbow with all its magic appear in the sky.

A beautiful day. A wonderful day. A peaceful day. Time has passed. The day of my surgery will be here in just a few hours. A new day with a new beginning. I know that time has been my friend. A time to just be. A time to slow down. I time to watch rainbows and look for the gold pot in my life.

An Unexpected Journey Begins

2007-10-11T08:48:00.000-07:00

Beep....beep....beep....da...da....da...
"Just three more minutes." The voice came faintly through the headset.
DA...DA..DA..DAAAAA....
"One more time." They were right. It does sound like a jackhammer.
Silence. Then a voice. "Now you will feel the dye in your arm. It may be cold."

I love the fall season. Bright, cerulean blue skies. Crisp, clear air and colors that create a reminder of nature's brilliance. I look forward to the fall. The time is spent planting mums to add color to faded gardens, tucking summer toys and lawn furniture away in the shed and preparing for the inevitable first snowfall.

In the area where I live at the edge of a beautiful Maine lake, there is a quietness that settles over our lake community. The busy traffic of visitors to the lakeside cottages slows and there are fewer people out for walks along the dirt road. The boats are pulled from their summer moorings and docks are stacked for their long winter stance.

The water is much lower and the loons begin dancing playfully in the bay as if to say, "The lake is ours again." With docks taken out of the water, a long beach emerges urging the year round residents to take full advantage of walking the water's edge and watching the loons play.

Beep...beep....beep...DA...Da...Da....
"Okay, Diane, two more sets."
I listen to Faith Hill, barely audible through the headset, singing, "Breathe...just breathe."
How did things change so quickly, I silently wonder.

This has been a transformative year for me physically. I am in the best shape that I have been in since my husband passed away five years ago. I lost thirty pounds of excess weight that was causing my lungs to work extra hard, I am running four times a week three to four miles at a time and I am eating healthy food. I feel energized, never believing that I could lose the weight, run again or regain what I had in years past. I feel healthy and invigorated.

"Diane, this isn't the news you wanted to hear. You have cancer."

Into my tranquil life, these words spilled from my doctor's mouth into the phone. "What? You must be talking about someone else." The words screamed in my head without leaving my lips. Instead, my voice spoke calmly, "Okay. What's next?" as tears silently escaped my eyes.

Since hearing those words from the doctor on September 25, 2007, I have entered the medical world and as one dear friend said, "You are on the conveyor belt of the medical world." I am all too familiar with this medical world, and yet, I am shocked to hear the words referring to me. After caring for so many family members with cancer, I was not ready for this, even after many biopsies. I am the one that has been the care taker. I am now the one needing the care. How will I do this? How will I let others care for me?

During the past two weeks, I have met with oncologists, surgeons, had MRI's and time to think. Too much time alone to think. Somehow time has slowed, and yet, is not going fast enough. I have decided to have a bilateral mastectomy. I am losing part of me and I have been grieving that part of me ever since I made the decision. However, I know this is the right decision for me.

I am busy cancelling appointments for my business and putting different appointments in my calendar (medical, massages and whatever else I may need!). I am planning for a future that was not part of my plan. I am healthy! I am a runner! I lost weight! How could this happen?

The cancer has happened. My core is still healthy. This cancer, though, is in me. I cannot see it or feel it. They tell me it is there. My life this beautiful fall is changing in a very unexpected way. This feels surreal. I am supposed to be doing other things not postponing work and activities until some unknown future date.

Instead, I am trusting in the universe that I am right where I am suppose to be at this time in my life complete with tears and laughter. This will not be without struggles, pain or sadness but I have no choice. The journey has begun.

I hope you will join me.

Intentions Versus Resolutions

2007-01-03T05:58:00.000-08:00

By now, most of you have seen or read the articles on New Year's Resolutions and how to be successful this year. My thought is that if they have not worked in the past then they probably are not going to work any better this year. Why do we make resolutions? What does resolution mean? What would happen if we reframe our thinking to making intentions instead?

According to Merriam-Webster's on-line dictionary a resolution is an act or process of resolving, answering or determining. In essence, it is to solve something. We make reolutions to lose weight, get a new job, be more attentive to our relationships or be more organized to name a few. The focus is that something is not working. Past behavior is not working for us and we need to solve the problem. Often times, I believe, resolutions do not work because it is a frame of mind that there is a problem to be solved. We have to come to terms with the problem, reconcile ourselves to solve the problem and then create an action plan. If there is no consequence to the problem, than for most of us, we will not create an action plan to solve. The stated resolution, although a nice thought, goes on the wayside.

So what if we reframed our thinking and stated what we want to accomplish in terms of intentions for the year? An intention is something one wants to accomplsih or bring about. The focus is on the future not the past. The focus is on possibilities, not solving problems. The focus is hope, not on what has not worked.

I like intentions. I believe in intentions. An intention is to bring about something. I believe if we state our intentions and put them into the universe, the universe responds. An intention is positive. An intention is hopeful. An intention is about possibilities. The universe will respond if we clearly state what we hope to bring about in the new year. This may seem like semantics, but to me it is a state of mind.

In 2003, I began painting. I signed up for an art class with a local artist. I had never painted before. I tried first with acrylics and then with oils. I lost my husband in the Fall of 2002 and my grief was overwhelming. Our life was planned and sudenly in March of 2002, he was diangosed with pancreatic cancer. Eight months later he left this world. I needed to rebuild my world and I started with paints.

I told my husband that I wanted to be able to paint the photos that I loved to take. When I walked into the art class, I was nervous and lacked confidence in what I might be able to do. Four years have passed since I picked up a paint brush. In 2006, one of my intentions was to be acknowledged by others for my art work and have commissioned work. This past Fall, I had four commissioned pieces of work! I gave my intention to the universe and the universe responded! I have deep gratitde and take the time each day to thank the universe for what I have received. You can check out my work at www.dlduntonphotography.com.

My intentions for the New Year are to bring about new possibilities for myself. I trust in the universe. I trust in the positive energy that will come my way. I know I have my part to play, and yet, in trusting the universe all things are possible.

Instead of resolutions this year, write your intentions, give them to the universe and enjoy a prosperous and Happy New Year!