inner wild therapy

breathe dearheart, breathe

Archives (page 13 of 15)

Finding what you’re looking for

Finding what you’re looking for is much easier than self-help and personal development books might lead you to believe.

Here’s the secret.

What you think you’re looking for is right there in front of you. Truly.

That’s it.

It’s such a love of yours that you completely take it for granted. You can’t see it.

You already have what you think would help fulfill you in your life. It could not be otherwise. You couldn’t deny something that is such an integral part of who you are, your intrinsic Self. It’s just that it is going unnoticed. Undervalued. Maybe even ignored.

As humans in the bustley 2000’s we have become accomplished at not seeing the individual trees for the acres of woods.

What are your trees? Look around you. What things are so much a part of your daily life that you don’t even notice them? And yet they give you satisfaction and feed you?

Notice these (often seemingly tiny) things. Devote more time and awareness to them. Expand them. Enjoy them.

You’ll find that having realised you  already found what you’ve been looking for but never noticed before, you’ll release the desire for searching for the elusive thing, (which you would never find anyway since you didn’t see it before when it was right there in front of you – how would you ever have seen it out there?).

Image borrowed from Jill/borealnz. Thank you for making the world more beautiful.

How being freaked-out can lead to contentment

I’m a girl with four decades of well, yes, checkered, experience in several different cultures.

Maybe that’s why I really love that thing we all do of “if someone had told me back then that I would be <whatever surprising experience/state of events/place/person> now I would never have believed them….”

I’ve been having that particular thought with ever-growing incredulity. I shock myself constantly. I often feel pretty freaked-out by the crazy swings into high-contrast experiences and events in my life.

So it is with my recently registering with LinkedIn.com and in 24 hours garnering 30-and-rising ‘connections’ of people I have worked with as a writer over several decades. You might be like I was for a long time; thinking this LinkedIn thing was a very boring idea of a website. Ho-hum. Well, no! What has really made me gasp with total-freaked-out-ness is the triple-whammy combination of :

1. seeing again the (older-looking) profile faces of people I felt professionally close to through several decades

2. seeing their career history, as in where in the world they’ve lived, and what they’ve accomplished in their lives, and wondering how all that was with them

3. remembering forgotten and ignored eras of my own life; in London, Sydney, Auckland and the times we had together.

Plus, you can talk (email) or not to a connection in your network in a commitment/expectation-free way just like you can opt-in or out with Twitter with no-one feeling offended. But the opening is there: the connection made for … well, all kinds of opportunities. Just a light virtual touching of fingers-tips that can stay in touch now without you doing anything at all. Wow!

I am a zealot about fulfilling our human hunger for community and belonging. And Linkedin has really surprised me with its effortless connecting of folks we know from our professional lives. Groups of people spiraling together into a giant connectedness network.

Ah, a perfect Mandlebrot set of lives.

It has inspired such a deep sense of contentment with me; a stark sense of unresolved circles being completed in perfection. Resolutions just by a delicate reconnect, nothing further required. People are so much a part of our lives. Re-connecting with people from my past has allowed me to reconnect with myself and my past. And feel good about that.

LinkedIn is another example of how the world wide web intensifies fulfillment of human needs in subtle yet phenomenally powerful ways.

OK, sure,  I’ll give you a personal example. I just reconnected with a sweet guy I had a sweet crush on nearly 20 years ago, saw what he’d been doing with himself over the years and if you had told me back then when I was all flushed-up and infatuated with him that in two decades we would connect up again and share our life stories in a beautiful, simple way I would never have believed you …

Image borrowed from Jock Cooper. Thank you for making the world more beautiful.

Sunshine on skin

Today – a Summer’s day visits me in Spring.

An unexpected, warmly-welcomed visitor. Like an old friend at the door, happy and bearing pistachio cake.

I turn my face up to the blue sky. The heat of yellow rays penetrates my pores. It feels like they have sunk into my brain, pretty golden shards.

Simple sun-kiss; bliss.

Image borrowed from rawartletterpress. Thank you for making the world more beautiful.

Borrowing beauty – how libraries help us embrace transience

I used to want to capture beautiful things and keep them close. I used to be sad that flowers died. I used to cling on to good memories. I used to have huge bookshelves groaning with books.

I don’t know why it has taken me so many self-help books, and traumatic experiences, to get to grips with the joy of experiencing fleeting loveliness – feeling the beauty deeply and effortlessly, letting it go – trusting that the world is brimming with beautifulness ready to be noticed.

Borrowing beauty in experiences, people, giving, seeing, feeling is a natural human state. Modern marketing seems to have divorced us from this state by creating artificial desires and offering attempts to fulfil them. By creating insecurities in us (the marketing ‘problem’) and seeming to provide self-actualisation in various shades (the marketing ‘solution’).

I don’t believe we are meant to hold tight. I do believe we might hold dear, however. Time is of no consequence; a moment of deep appreciation is a gift more rare than years of remembering the beautiful thing is there with you in the other room somewhere.

It is a lovely way to live. I think of the word ‘transience’. Previously I would have felt transience was a melancholy state. Now I rejoice in transience. We are all transient here, everything is. The secret is to embrace that and allow the pureness of being in the now to overwhelm us for that moment.

So it is after this lengthy somewhat tangential introduction that I mention the luscious beauty that is the new cover designs by Klaus Haapaniemi for two well-loved Patrick Suskind novels. I can look and look at these illustrations and — is it because of the www which allows me to see these covers whenever I want? — not need to possess them even while I love them.

As I said, I used to need to own books. Collect and imprison them in huge bookshelves. I don’t have that need any more.

Years ago a friend of mine was baffled by my buying books instead of borrowing them from the local library. I was baffled by his read-and-return attitude. I thought him superficial. Now I see he was wise.

After several years of borrowing books of all kinds from local libraries I find the library a magical infinite universe of books. I can even pre-order new books, order others and it’s all free so you can gorge yourself with anything – take a pile of books out, maybe only read one, take them back.

I think most people don’t realise how luxurious, how decadently indulgent, libraries make reading.

I can read volumes of reference and non-fiction books and not pay for them and float about in fiction from any era, not simply choose favorites chosen by a particular book store chain or independent book shop.

I do feel slightly uncomfortable about my love affair with libraries (and librarians, who are always lovely!) because I am also a novelist and of course if people don’t buy books, well, em, what then dear reader?

Image borrowed from Penguin Books/Klaus Haapaniemi. Thank you for making the world more beautiful.