Pace Yourself for Fun

I decided to learn to play pickleball, just for fun. I didn’t want more stress, competition, or striving for excellence in my life. I wanted to enjoy the sport, to pace myself for fun.

To start, I took a pickleball clinic at a nearby recreation center. It was tough! In the first session I got completely overwhelmed. Too much information = not a good time. I couldn’t filter through all the rules, strategies, and scoring. I just wanted to practice getting the ball over the net.

Maybe for the first time in my life, I didn’t care about being good immediately. I wanted to meet my fellow players. I was willing to learn by making mistakes.

Are We Having Fun Yet?

I almost didn’t go back. But I’d paid for the clinic, and I don’t like to give up. So, I went the second time. This time wasn’t as much overwhelming as it was shame inducing. We learned how to serve by cycling through a drill where one person served and the other returned the ball. The whole group watched. Oy. I tensed right up and couldn’t even get the ball into the court.

Then I really didn’t want to go back.

I was up most of the night before session #3. It’s one thing to have patience with becoming good; it’s another to be painfully bad.

The Courage To Have Fun

Then I remembered that I get self-centered in these types of situations, making it all about me. It’s not about me! I’m not the center of the universe. This class is not about me; it’s about all of us learning together, including the teacher.

Actually, the teacher seemed as nervous to be teaching as I was to be singled out. Maybe that’s why she gave us so much information all at once. Or, why she said she wouldn’t be able to learn our names.

Now, I’ve been in the field of education a long time, and it would’ve been easy for me to blame her for not coming across as caring, or not being good at organizing the curriculum. But maybe she was just insecure, like me.

So I made a choice to override shame, pull together all my courage, and go again—reminding myself of the goal to have fun. If people pitied me, or no one wanted to play with me, oh well. By asking specific questions, maybe I could even help her to teach me better.

That class was the breakthrough! I noticed two things:

Relinquishing my place as the center of the universe, I observed that others looked ridiculous at times, too. And I saw that we all make great shots as well as bad shots.

Sometimes, it’s the courage to show up once more that allows an experience to flip over to fun.

Stretch But Don’t Break

The next week, I stretched further by attending open pickleball for beginners. I played with someone new. I liked her. She was forgiving.

One member of the other team looked older. Turned out, she was 80, and a fierce player. At one point, she stopped the game to call us over. She explained why we need three types of serves. Three types?! I knew I needed to practice my serve, but yikes. As I stepped back into position, I laughed to my partner, yeah, I’m just trying to get it over the net. I overcame potential self-judgment with humor. Such a victory.

I’ve given up joy so often in my life. I’ve done it to be more skilled, to be a high achiever, to meet or exceed job expectations, to do what I thought others wanted, to be “the best,”— whatever. Doing so sacrificed my own center, my sovereignty, and my enjoyment of life.

Not any more. Now, I’m practicing the key—the same one I used as a teacher. In education, you learn to pace the student to stretch, but not break. When I (as the student) lose the wonder, mystery, or joy, then learning becomes drudgery.

Pacing Yourself for Fun

So I’ve decided to pace myself for fun. I practice this in my work, too. I want to sustain the joy.

If we need to learn, or to live, at a slower pace than world-spin, let’s do it! Choosing to align with our heartbeat rather than the collective pulse increases our delight, our sense of awe, and our gratitude.

If we choose to sacrifice fun, at least we can do so purposefully.  

I’ll understand if some players don’t want me as a pickleball partner. But, honestly, I’m going to get so much better by encouraging myself to enjoy the process, one shot at a time.

Note: Since writing this blog, I have improved quite a bit by taking my own advice. 😀

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Choosing My Own New Life

Many losses during the last two years have had a surprising upside. They’ve given me the freedom and opportunity to choose my own new life. I don’t care much about normality. I’m discovering my own world, from the inside out.

Reclaiming the right to choose is my secret for living simply, joyfully, and sustainability.

I’m building a structure one habit and one choice at a time. I decide what gets my precious attention and what doesn’t. I decide what fills my days, and I watch carefully what fills my heart.

What Must Go in My Own New Life

What doesn’t make the cut in my new life is mainstream news media. Was that hard to give up? No, it was a relief.

Thankfully, my husband Bruce keeps up with world events for our household. He keeps me posted on the headlines.  

He finds inspiring stories to show me, such as “On the Road” with Steve Hartman—a CBS segment that’s been running for years. In fact, when it began, Steve and his crew would show up in Anytown, USA, open a phone book (what’s that?) and call a random person to ask if they could stop by. The team believed everyone had a story worth telling. As they talked with strangers, they uncovered that story.

Bruce also keeps track of documentaries I might appreciate, even if they’re a bit tough to watch, like the Naudet brothers’ film that followed Firehouse #1 on 9/11.

Social media is strictly limited. It’s not that I don’t care about others’ lives; it’s that the sheer volume is untenable and the interface scrambles my brain.

Old beliefs, and roles that I was certain were lifetime commitments, didn’t make the cut. Those were harder to surrender because without them, I questioned my identity.

Sometimes, these are difficult decisions. What stays or goes reflects new priorities.

What I Choose To Stay

I’ve noticed that what stays becomes increasingly more precious. The women in my family—sister, niece, and grandniece—are treasured. A few friendships I choose to nurture are deepening.

Creativity is dialed up! Singing again has made a huge difference in my ability to stay uplifted and joyful. Then, there’s writing, which both fuels and expresses my creative spark.

I’m focused more on welcoming new habits. A well-suited exercise routine is bringing physical strength. Pickleball has opened me to community that encourage playfulness over competition.

What stays has to align with fearless freedom, sustainability, or joy. Often, all of the above.

My New Habits and Practices

I’ve started to watch sunrises. They connect me with the earth and start my day with silent, often colorful, beauty.

I watch birds at the feeder. I watch my cat Zoey watch birds at the feeder.

I watch my reactions now, too. I take time to make decisions, and I try to be aware when other people’s thoughts or fears push me around.

I soak in the winter sunlight from our southern exposure windows, and open those windows for fresh air, even when the temperature is below zero.

I love seeing neighborhood dogs run in the snow.

I appreciate the simple kindnesses of strangers who bag my groceries or hold open a door to the rec center.

I’m ever grateful for my old Honda Civic that can still go another 100,000 miles.

I’ve given up self-punishment in favor of self-forgiveness, and worry in favor of curiosity.

I’m experiencing direct perception of a tangible, higher love that’s training me.

I’ve given up taking care of others when they haven’t even asked.

Finally, I’ve stopped behaving as if money is a God who requires the sacrifice of my health, wellbeing, and life force.

I’ve begun to cherish time with my husband in these days of simple living that roll through an evening, one into another.

I’ve found myself amazed at my existence—the wonder of being made of stardust, and the power of the body to heal itself.

Albert Einstein famously said, There are only two ways to live your life: one is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.

In my own new life, I choose.


Portrait of Emma & Grandniece Natalie by Mary Ann Baxter

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We Are Stardust

We are made out of stardust.
The iron in the hemoglobin molecules in the blood in your right hand
came from a star that blew up 8 billion years ago.
The iron in your left hand came from another star.


—Jill Tarter, American Astronomer and SETI Pioneer

Inspired by a YA novel I read that quoted famous astronomers, I began looking at a much larger view of my little life on earth.

Jill Tarter has been awarded two Exceptional Public Service medals from NASA, as well as the Women in Aerospace Lifetime Achievement Award. The bulk of her work is in the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence (SETI), which “uses the tools of astronomy to try to find evidence of someone else’s technology out there. Our own technologies are visible in interstellar distances and theirs might be as well.”

I love when concepts like ‘extraterrestrial technologies out there’ blow my mind. The fact that my molecules came from exploding stars billions of years ago puts today in a different context. It takes me out of my petty ego, the part that would believe it’s the center of the universe, if I let it.

I’d rather expand like an exploding star.

I feel such a sense of awe looking skyward. It’s a childlike wonder that comes from having no preconceptions or expectations.

I’ve had a powerful connection to the constellation Orion for as long as I can remember—as if it’s home. [My friend Larry Siegel’s song “Orion” captures this beautifully: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pa_YTtryXXk]

I mean, doesn’t it seem like a miracle to you, that your body is actually stardust?

It’s all perspective. Rather than narrow my focus to human limitations or, worse yet, to socio-political dramas, I choose astronomical expansion.

Comfortable in the Universe

Once I got into space, I was feeling very comfortable in the universe.
I felt like I had a right to be anywhere in this universe, that I belonged here
as much as any speck of stardust, any comet, any planet.

—Mae Jemison, NASA Astronaut

Engineer, doctor, and NASA astronaut Mae Jemison became the first African American woman to travel in space in 1992. What an impressive biography, and she’s delightful: https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/video/mae-jemison-i-wanted-to-go-into-space/

Dr. Jemison experienced belonging in space. I found this astonishing. When looking at something so vast, I tend to shrink in comparison.  Do you?

Now I wonder if I’d feel more comfortable in space than I do here on earth. Or if I’d experience the sense of home I feel when I gaze at Orion.

Before the Beginning of Time

We are made of stardust; our whole body consists of material
that has been here before the beginning of time.

—Giorgio A. Tsoukalos, Swiss-born Writer, Ufologist, TV Producer

Here we are again, with a concept the mind cannot possibly comprehend—before the beginning of time. We live under the influence of clock-time. We crave vacations or rare weekend days when we can ignore the passing of hours and the tasks we believe must be accomplished within them.

But beingness existed before man-made clocks. Before measured time was duration, as in how long the sun’s rays fell on the fields, or how long snow lingered in spring. The body’s aging process indicated duration.

Today, our sense of time strangles us when we allow it to dictate our actions. With limited awareness of our internal rhythm, and little alignment with the movement of heavenly bodies, human time often manufactures misery.

Hang in There!

Friend, you are a divine mingle-mangle of guts and stardust. So hang in there!
If doors opened for me, they can open for anyone.


—Frank Capra, Italian-Born Film Director

Frank Capra produced and directed the iconic film It’s A Wonderful Life. This holiday story, written by Philip Van Doren Stern (allegedly as a short story to include in his Christmas cards) explores the theme human suffering and emptiness, such that we no longer see ourselves as a wondrous part of an immense and beautiful universe.

Yet, as Capra suggests, the doors can open for anyone, anytime. And as the film suggests, we can see how deeply meaningful we are to the universe with a shift in perspective.

Shift Perspective Tonight

So, take a look at the sky tonight and remember that you’re living beyond a movie set. Be willing to be fully alive, to be amazed by your speck of stardust in an endless, expanding universe of heavenly bodies.

*************

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Photo by NASA on NASA.Gov. This composite image contains X-ray data from NASA’s Chandra X-ray Observatory and the ROSAT telescope (purple), infrared data from NASA’s Spitzer Space Telescope (orange), and optical data from the SuperCosmos Sky Survey (blue) made by the United Kingdom Infrared Telescope.

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Activate Your Highest Vision: The Cyclical Rhythm

This blog is part three in the Activate Your Highest Vision series.

If you’re struggling with a strictly linear approach to activating your highest vision, you’ll be happy to hear it’s not the only one. Coaching Millennials taught me to recognize and identify other ways to build dreams. If you want to make it easier on yourself, let go of self-judgment and choose an approach that’s more in harmony with you. Could that be a cyclical rhythm? Let’s find out.

What is the Cyclical Rhythm?

While a linear approach is illustrated by a straight line—steps in sequence from where you are now to where you want to be—the cyclical rhythm is represented by a circle.  We use the cyclical rhythm to activate our vision when we set up repeated actions at frequency intervals. We’ve all done this without even thinking about why or how it works!

Have you ever felt compelled to set up a new, positive habit? What did you tell yourself? Maybe things like, I want to meditate every day; I need to exercise three times a week; I’ve got to do my accounting once a month; every year I want to reassess my goals. That’s a cyclical approach—it’s a circle, not a line. And if you were consistent in repeating actions over time, didn’t momentum take over?

The cyclical rhythm is like a wheel that spins and moves you forward, just like hopping on your bike takes you further than you could walk on your own. Your tires turn and gain traction. This rhythm is very effective for establishing healthy habits—and for taking you the distance in activating larger life goals.

A Cyclical Rhythm Success Story

A Millennial client whom I’ll call Jenny (not her real name) wanted to grow her passion for organic, sustainable farming into a business. She and her partner moved to a new home on a beautiful piece of land with plenty of open space to build large gardens. Jenny loved farmer’s markets, and she had a future vision of creating a retreat center for others to reconnect with nature and learn to grow their own organic food.

When Jenny came to coaching she said, I don’t know what’s the matter with me; I can’t even get the seeds in the ground. I was curious. What’s blocking this very bright, clearly intentioned, and fully capable woman from starting her garden?

Then, I remembered the cyclical rhythm. This individual is connected to nature, and nature cycles through seasons. I’ll bet if Jenny shifts to a cyclical rhythm, I thought, she’ll get unstuck, find her way forward, and gain momentum. This approach would re-align Jenny with her natural rhythm and honor her growth process.

I asked Jenny what she needed to do each month, starting in spring, to have a harvest in the fall.  Then, we further broke down what needed tending each week—like adding manure to enrich the soil, building a deer fence, or consulting a friend who’s an expert. Simultaneously, Jenny learned to tend herself with uplifting daily and weekly habits to sustain her energy and balance. Coaching check-ins supported her in maintaining these cycles long enough for the momentum to shift.

The cyclical pattern set Jenny’s wheels into motion. Her garden is flourishing now. She continues to activate her highest vision by tending herself and her garden at daily, weekly, and monthly intervals. Every small action is a seed that takes root and grows when given the proper conditions. 

Could the Cyclical Rhythm Work for Me?

How do you know if this approach will grow your business, your relationships, or your life’s dream, like Jenny grew her garden? 

While a linear model requires a clear vision, manageable steps, and persistence to succeed [see part 2 of this series for the linear approach], the cyclical rhythm has its own requirements. In this model, the desired vision also needs to be clear. But, rather than steps in a sequence, the cyclical rhythm requires you to identify smaller actions which, when repeated, will gain traction. And, the quality most needed for this style to work is consistency.

Coaching in the cyclical model helps you choose right actions. It supports discipline with kind accountability until the tipping point of momentum takes over. Support is often needed when that momentum kicks into gear and adjustments must be made quickly!

But, What If I’m In a Constant Spin Cycle?

We don’t all find our solution in the cyclical approach. You’ll know this model is not working if you feel like you’re stuck in a loop. You’re spinning your wheels, but getting nowhere. And, you seem to be facing the same issue or obstacle over and over again. That’s when you know it’s time for a change in addressing that particular area of your life.

Fortunately, there are other options! Keep reading the series to learn more about serpentine, figure eight, and universal approaches, which are increasingly innovative and creative. Ultimately, you want to move among these rhythms, to use what works for you in the moment, tailored to your current situation. That’s the freedom of living intentionally, sustainably, and joyfully.

Photo by Dhaya Eddine Bentaleb on Unsplash

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In 2020, “Row the Boat”

It’s the fourth quarter of the Outback Bowl and, at a game-defining moment, thousands of Minnesota fans are chanting, “row the boat” while pulling imaginary oars.  I reach for my phone as my baffled husband asks, what does ‘row the boat’ mean in football?

We did not expect the answer we found. 

Minnesota Coach P.J. Fleck lost his infant son to a heart condition in 2011.  In interviews, Fleck shares how holding his second son while he died changed everything—what he believed in, what he’d done to that point, and how he chooses to live going forward.   Row the boat represents his son’s life continuing through his own; it became a mantra meaning never give up

For Fleck, this metaphor has three parts—the oar, the boat, and the compass.

The oar is the energy we bring to life in every endeavor.

The boat represents sacrifice.  Coach Fleck asks, “What are you willing to give up for something you haven’t had?”

The compass is the direction in which we’re travelling and our all-important travelling companions.

What a cool way to look at a new year and new decade:  energy, sacrifice, direction.

Energy.  It’s interesting to note how many of us began to shift towards plant-based food sources recently.  Food as fuel, one friend said.  To balance mental and emotional energies, many people have gone on media fasts or become careful about the images they ingest, especially before bedtime.  Still others are recommitting to spiritual exercises as a source of sustainable energy—the kind that supports long-term health, clarity and happiness. 

What kind of energy sustains us?

Sacrifice.  A millennial friend once shared that when he makes a request of Life, he first considers what he’s willing to give in order to receive the gift. I’ve thought in terms of the work I’m willing to invest to earn my way, but this notion of sacrifice stretches and inspires me further. 

What are we willing to give up for something we haven’t had before?

Direction.  Envisioning the highest goals engages our creativity and heart. Then, we can listen to Life as it coaches us beyond our imaginings.  Trusting this life force opens an opportunity to actually reach the goals we’ve set.

How coachable are we?  And have we invited loving traveling companions to accompany us? 

Pivotal to my own success has been connecting with my inner coach, the wise voice within, the inspiration for all things great and small, the voice of unconditional acceptance and perpetual learning.

Coach Fleck helped set the direction for his team, then credited the players themselves as the number one reason for the season’s success.  The Minnesota Gophers haven’t had an 11-win run since 1904. 

Monitoring our energy sources, contemplating true sacrifice, and setting our own direction through inner guidance can give us the best opportunity to “row the boat” all the way to our end zone.

Our winning season is within reach in 2020, too.

Photo by Joakim Honkasalo on Unsplash

Do We Matter?

Twice in the last week, I’ve encountered the term existential dread. 

One young woman described this state as “fretting over my non-existent influence on the world.”  As she struggled to make ends meet and balance her passion for activism, she found herself exhausted. 

When we feel overwhelmed, it’s easy to question our self-worth or impact.  We may find ourselves in the victim’s chair, wondering how we got there—again.   Or we fall under the wave rather than surfing its crest.

What’s important to remember is that our perception can shift in a heartbeat.  It can flip, just like a coin tossed into the air.

Two weeks ago, my husband and I were walking the loop around a nearby pond.  I’d been feeling pressured by the immense project of rebranding and launching a new website. 

The challenge of finding simple words to express the Life is Coaching You principle loomed large.  How could I explain something so experiential, so alive, so unique to each individual? 

To do so, I would have to be open to Life coaching me.  I checked in.  Was I listening?  Did I trust that the way would appear?  Would I follow through patiently on a task that felt like climbing an endless mountain with a full backpack?

In that moment, a white, curly-haired puppy on a leash rounds the curve up ahead. He’s excitedly sniffing the air and joyously jumping through fallen leaves. 

His owner walks slowly, watchful and smiling, letting the little guy fully experience the park’s sights and smells.  By the time they reach us, I can’t wait to meet this pup. 

As I always do, I ask the owner if that would be OK. 

“Absolutely,” comes the reply.  “He never understands when people don’t want to say hello.  Makes no sense to him.”

Four-month-old Biscuit leaps up to greet us, though his height at full stretch barely reaches our knees.  He licks our hands, and jumps back and forth between us. We can’t help but laugh and play with Biscuit.

There it is again, I realize.  The flip. 

Can you picture a dog fretting over his influence on the world?  Or worrying about how a website’s message could reach its audience? 

Not a chance.  Life is too fun, too full, too rich, too utterly enthralling!  A dead leaf on the ground is a cause for celebration.

After a time, my husband and I move on, and Biscuit continues his exploration.

Now comes the critical moment. 

Do I return to existential dread?  Or do I take the opportunity to release the old for the new, to step across the threshold into a state from which everything can be viewed with wonder?

Dozens of these choices—these open doorways—present themselves daily.  They may not all be as obvious as Biscuit, but they come. 

Puppies don’t care if they matter.  Because they just do.  And so do we.