Imagine a book. A cover richly embroidered with a tapestry of colour and texture. Intricate patterns entwining to create a kaleidoscope of movement. Open the book. Place it on a table. Let the wind direct the pages and open it at will. Can the wind find the pattern of its progress? Is there form to the writing in the Book? Is there a consistent handwriting or a variety of unflowing attempts in many different hands? Can you see elaborate sketches and pictures that conjure the imagination… or simply half started and unfinished sentences? Does a story come alive in your heart as you read…?
Whose book – who’s story – is it? Is it yours? Do you see yourself in the author’s script? Is that your favourite colour in the ink from the pen? Did you choose to put your name on the cover?
There is nothing more powerful than a story. Our whole lives are a story. Each day involves the opportunity to participate in the writing of it. Being intentional and conscious to our emotions, reactions and behaviours fuels the words and phrases we scribe on our pages. Knowing our values and the core essence of who we are, and what we bring to this world, are the style we bring to our handwriting. They are ours alone. Our unique offering to lead something new and leave an impression on the page.
Each day also brings the opportunity for someone else to do the writing on our page…
Being the writer of our own story requires personal mastery and leadership. It asks us to reflect on - and know - ourselves. It requires an attitude of humility and curiosity; and the practices of reflection and openness. Most importantly, it requires courage. Picking up the pen to actively write the flow of your own story – your own life – is difficult. There will be chapters written by other people and circumstances – those times when ‘life happens’. But ultimately, when choosing to write your own story, the way you react and the direction you choose to move from that, is up to you.
Our books are finite. But we don’t know when they are coming to the end.
So pick up the pen. Start doing your own writing. Start living on purpose… and watch a richness and fulfilment transcend each word on the pages in your book.
I’ve been recently reminded of the significance of space. In our quest to fill everything with stuff, doing and moving somewhere, we miss the point. We miss the meaning that space gives us.
The reminder came through a small plant with a delicate flower that had struggled its way through some tiles on a pathway. Not unusual or remarkable in itself, but it drew my awareness to something profound. What I noticed and took joy in was the plant. The accidental result of the creation of a space in between the tiles. It was unscripted, unexpected and left an impression on me. What I noticed was what came out of the space… but I didn’t think twice about the tiles – the planned, formulated result of our human desire to control and conquer. I don’t even remember what they looked like.
Space literally provides room to grow. For plants – and for humans too. When we invite spaciousness into our way of being, we allow thought, awareness, understanding and wisdom to surface. Gifts that are often stifled by our ego’s need to seem important through busy-ness, or successful through the acquisition of stuff.
When we stop and create space – stillness, noticing and listening – we can access the knowing and being that transform who we are and how we show up in the world far more profoundly and importantly than the clutter of blindly paving our life.
Perhaps if we allowed more space, more moments of calmness and stillness, more room to breathe, we would see more plants explore our pathway - more unexpected, memorable, beautiful moments of joy and pleasure not planned or foreseen. More moments of grace and blessing.
On a personal note...
I am curious, creative, determined, committed and (a bit too much of) a perfectionist.