When we think about telling, writing or sharing stories, we often think about the stories we put out into the world.  But the stories we tell ourselves may be the most powerful stories we have.  Brene Brown said, “You either walk inside your story and own it or you stand outside your story and hustle for your worthiness.”  Owning your story is hard work.  Being conscious of the small stories we tell ourselves every day that make up the great big story of our life takes a significant level of awareness and presence. 

Open-ended questions are the stealthy stage-setters of good communication.  They subtly invite artful conversation in which words can flow and ideas can be freely expressed.  Imagine watching a martial arts demonstration where the opponents are dancing in flow as they spar with each other versus one where an opponent keeps forcefully blocking the other and throwing aggressive moves.  In the second example, the artistic energy is lost. 

There are two spirits guarding my heart at the moment: a warrior and a nun*.  Both serve to protect me in their own unique ways.  The warrior protects me from physical, emotional and mental harm, while the nun protects the peace I have rediscovered and cultivated recently.  They began to show up strongly over the past 4 months since my husband-at-the-time and I decided we would divorce.  They each serve an important purpose, and I am grateful for them every day.  While they are essential in enforcing self love right now during this time of recovery and healing, I question whether they may inadvertently protect me from love in the long run.

On Saturday, I took a master class with Eric Parra, a dancer in the Limón Dance Company of NYC.  It felt like a return to my roots since my modern dance teacher in college was trained in the Limón technique.  It was fundamental to my practice and understanding of modern dance, and having the privilege of dancing in that style again with someone who dances it every day was freeing and comforting at the same time.  At one point during class, Eric encouraged us to think of the suspension of the body in the air as a life between two deaths.  The deaths are the stillness, or stagnancy, that the body lives in before suspension, and falls into, thanks to gravity, after suspension.  Therefore, choosing to feel and express as much life as we could during the moment of suspension creates the most physical expansion and visual interest.  How far could we stretch?  How long could we hold ourselves up?  How much energy could we exude?

So much of the life we live is predicated on the connections we have with others, both personal and professional.  Although our world is more connected digitally than ever before, technology also has an isolating effect with so many heads down and fingers tapping on phones or laptops. Instead of seeing each other, shaking hands and connecting with all of our senses, we are often observing or entering information on a screen with little to no interaction.  Because of the constant distractions of technology, I would argue that our authentic connections with others are more important than ever before.  Knowing this, how can we restore lost connections, gain new connections and maintain the ones that matter to us now?

I read something recently in passing that said, “Joy is an inside job.”  I agree wholeheartedly.  And yet, it is one of those simple and profound truths that bears repeating.  Being human, we need repetition to fully learn something.  And some life lessons take a lifetime of repeating before we “get” them.  It is a good thing “Joy” is my middle name, as well as part of my business name, Joyfull Communications, to remind me repeatedly to seek joy within.

It is one of the greatest temptations in life to look for joy outside of ourselves.

“Where we stopped dancing, singing, being enchanted by stories, or finding comfort in silence is where we have experienced the loss of soul. Dancing, singing, storytelling, and silence are the four universal healing salves.” - Gabrielle Roth

Hearing those words felt like hearing the deepest “Om,” like feeling a vibration at the frequency of light. Dance, singing, storytelling and silence. In each of these we give and receive, create and witness, feel known and surrender to the unknown. And each of them crosses over to the next and seamlessly combines elements of them all.

Last night I attended a breathwork session and found deep meaning in something the instructor said halfway through: “It’s easy to be busy, it’s hard to be still.” How true this is in our modern society where productivity is valued over rest!

There is nothing quite like the exhilaration of starting something new. Whether it’s a new project, new business, new baby, or new home we all know that feeling of embarking on a journey, holding promise in one hand and uncertainty in the other.