Monday 18 June 2012

Happiness is: a walk to work



I walked to work today. Because I work at home this might seem a bit strange. But because I find the fresh air and exercise so beneficial, I try and walk to work as many days a week as I can. Today I was especially aware of the simple small things that can happen on a short 30 monute walk that set my day up in such a satisfied way. Feeling simple gratitude makes all the difference.

The trick of course is to notice. Today, I happened to notice. 

Here are 7 things that happened on the way to work:

1.) I walked across the field with high grass overlooking the local castle. Today I took a moment to enjoy this view on my way up that hill. Delicious. 

2.) So many flowers and plants are bursting out of their coiled state in and among the hedgerows along the road and path I take. This outrageous and passionate display of nature warms my heart and reminds me that I too am a part of this fertile display of natural expression.

2.) At the top of the path where I walk, I can see an incredible view of the natural outcrop that is the wonder of Hay Tor. Today it was clear enough to see for many miles up to this vast area of Dartmoor. The breadth and depth of this view keeps me connected to the bigger picture and the spaciousness within my life.

3.) I had a brief chat with the farmer on an all-terrain motorcycle. He was standing at a T junction and I wondered if his bike was out of order. He assured me he was fine and that this was the 2nd time today he had to get his bullock back after he escaped into neighboring field. Cows and sheep are a feature of Devon that I still find charming and a bit odd. I am definitely not in the urban “Kansas” I grew up in anymore!

4.) I admired the array of about 40 solar panels in a new land development that is partly buried in a hillside. I have no idea whether this is domestic or other, but I'm very curious and interested. I'm also delighted that whatever they do they're using the south facing angle of their great location.

5.) I got to throw a tennis ball for a beautiful 5-year-old golden lab “puppy” as I meandered down the footpath. She was very proud to be walking her human. 

6.) I chatted briefly with a man preparing his drain at the base of his driveway. As I approached I simply heard some swearing from someone a bit frustrated. When asked if he was okay, he smiled broadly showed me everything was great and invited me to enjoy the sunshine as he was.

7.) As I crossed before a line of bungalows, I found a heart-shaped leaf wanted to come home with me and remind me of the simple things… Like noticing things on this walk… to carry into my day-to-day work, play and parenting.

And with this I am like to and refreshed to begin my day starting with this simple blog.

 I feel incredibly grateful for the simple things that come my way. They are happening all the time if I notice. Enjoy the simple things in your day-to-day.

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Katheryn Trenshaw, director Passionate Presence Center, is a teacher, consultant, artist and writer. If you would like to explore more about her passionate presence work or other courses, the next Sunday evening course is indefinite on July 1 from 7 to 9:30 PM. The next residential weekend is called Coming Home from the Inside Out.  More information at www.passionatepresence.org or feel free to join our mailing list for events or Email us.


Monday 11 June 2012



Freedom: Making Space

I went to visit my friend Pete yesterday who is dying. We all are dying, of course, but for Pete this is more obviously immanent. A year ago this friend was suffering from a toothache that wouldn't go away. He was extremely fit and he led and extraordinarily healthy lifestyle. People often guessed he was 10 to 15 years younger than he was.  This 60-ish man is now hobbling across a corridor door as he ushers me into his flat for my long overdue visit. Since I saw him a few months ago he has lost perhaps half of his body weight. The cancer has spread all around Pete's body in spite of doing all that is possible to stop or slow its growth.

It is of course rather shocking to see my beloved friend. But all of those obvious changes aside, what strikes me most is his dignity and grace and generosity. Pete shares what his process has been like these last weeks and what he values now, but mostly he wants to hear stories from the "outside world"...Nothing is too mundane. He wants it all. I have known Pete for over 20 years. We share a love of music, hot tubs and are both ex pats. We have seen each other through thick and thin. And we cry together now as he endures a wave of pain. We cry together, as well, as he celebrates with me how well my life is going after a long "dark night of the soul” period. He loves my film and book projects and has seen them gestate over a long period. He knows more than most what I have lived through. And now in his last days or weeks or months in this life, his being broken open stops time. It doesn't matter what we are talking about. All that is important now with Pete is physically touching, preferably where it doesn't hurt too much and the quality of sharing. We are only concerned with disposition.  The content is a bonus or even an incidental thing.

And it was great to be able to joke with him that finally after all these years he "got me in bed with him" as I snuggled up to his good side to hold him! It was wonderful to see and hear and feel his laughter. 

And what I'm left with now, besides feeling incredibly grateful and gifted, is something he said; He spoke about how we can't run away from our traumas. And Pete feels that for him this experience is directly related to undigested trauma from very early life. He thought he had resolved most things, but now can see that this process is to do with completing some of that time in his life. Regardless of how one feels about such things, it was incredibly touching to feel his dignified response. His taking response-ability for his life. He is making his life count right to the end. And in so doing, he is inspiring the privileged few of us who get to spend time with him. I am inspired more than ever to to let things go that need to be released and to live an authentic imperfect perfect life.

As I write this I am again brought to tears thinking of my own sadness for his discomfort. And I am also filled with gratitude and inspired with more vigor to continue the work that I have chosen to do... because I love it and because it makes it difference. Over a year ago, before all of this, my now dying friend was kind enough to be a part of my In Your Own Skin project in which he, like all the others who took part, share something that is not obvious to strangers.   I wrote on his skin for photographic portrait. He chose the words “space maker.” At the time, this referred to a congruency in his life both his early life as a landscape architect as well as his latter life as an extremely skilled and sought after masseur. Now, as his body shrinks in size and the funeral arrangements have been made, he is preparing to make even more space and to embrace the the space of empty fullness that is death.  

My friend Michaela recently sent out a touching little note in her shock and grief at the sudden death of her co-teacher James. She noted with poignancy that his last contact in the Social Networking world was this, "The more you commit to life, the more you can commit to death." She also noted that, especially recently, he lived with a deep freedom. What more is there at an essential level?


So here is to making space in your heart and your freedom! And blessings on my friend, on James and on all of us as we live until we die.