newsletter Archives - Everyday Integrity

October 8, 2018February 12, 2022

News from Jules | 10.08.2018 | What Are You Harvesting?

Looking ahead to this week, as well as the whole month of October, there is so much.

So much it won’t fit on my weekly chart.

There are sticky notes hanging off the sides. Uh oh.

But how could that be? September was my big month.

I traveled for work and family trips, worked several gigs and kicked off a new consulting project, as well as moved from the cottage to a house.

Now, I can see how September’s fullness was only the transition, the ripening as we move into fall. Now is the time of harvest.

My first instinct is to reduce, reschedule, remove.

And yet.

And yet, each project, each task, feels true, aligned, necessary. Ripe.

And so, like the winemakers and farmers I’ve seen in the Columbia River Gorge over these last few weeks, I know they must be harvested.

But what, I’ve been wondering?

What am I harvesting?

For the last two weeks since the autumn equinox on Sept. 22, I’ve been holding this question.

Meaning to sit down with a cup of tea and write out a list of all the stuff showing up right now, I figured then I could answer this question.

Then, while savoring my second Sabbath in the new house in a new neighborhood, it hit me: I’m harvesting the intentions I planted in spring and bloomed this summer.

This felt like a simultaneous “Duh” and an “Aha.”

Ah yes, all the “stuff” (e.g.: projects, friends, stuff-stuff) showing up right now is simply manifestations of my deep intentions for the year.

What I knew I needed on the path forward, in this learning journey.

Deep community, prosperity, intimacy, rhythm, to name a few.

These intentions have not been neglected or forgotten, though I have been at risk lately of distraction from the “what” showing up, instead of remembering the “why.”

Right as they are coming to fruition.

We can not be distracted by the harvest—the hectic gathering of the crops—as the reason for the season.

Just as Sabbath is the yin of rest to the yang of effort in the rest of our lives, fall is a season of balance relative to the greater cycle, to the whole.

A season for extra efforting—from our intentions, not just because—to fulfill the current growth cycle.

Nothing more, nothing less.

What have you planted?

What are you harvesting?

May your yields be true, aligned and necessary this week.

Love,
Jules

I share a lesson learned about integrity every Monday. Sign up for delivery right to your inbox. Want more? There’s lots more lessons learned here on my blog, so have fun exploring and commenting about your own insights!

August 13, 2018February 12, 2022

News from Jules | 08.13.2018 | Where There’s a Will…

A week ago, I ran in the 216-mile Cascade Lake Relay race on a team of 12 runners.

I think this was my 15th race and 8th relay race. I knew what I was getting into. So, I thought.

I knew this race was harder than most I’d done before:

higher elevation,
longer legs,
hotter temperatures
and compromised air quality due to wildfire season.

I was excited for the challenge and to cross it off my bucket list.

Once I signed up, I set up a training schedule and determined my goal: to complete the race.

And then I got injured.

Except I didn’t have months of lead time like I did for the Seattle half-marathon that I recently wrote about in my blog.

I only had eight weeks until race day to heal and be ready.

Was I being stubborn? Was I too determined? Was I stuck on a goal?

One of my friends has joked about me: “Where there’s a Will-iams, there’s a way!”

I refined my training schedule with my Physical Therapy team and focused harder on my goal: to complete the race.

But, completing the race did not mean at any cost. Success looked like running easefully, causing no harm or new injury, and recovering quickly.

When I ran the Seattle Marathon in 2008, I was nervous as hell to do it and hell bent on finishing it. I did. It was hard and it hurt a lot.

Read the story about this race in my latest blog post: When 2,364th Place is Winning.

I have learned so much since then.

This time, I increased my pace time to 12-minutes-per-mile so that I could run intervals: 4 minutes running, 1 minute walking.

A week before the race, my physical therapist gave the thumbs up on my knee.

But, it wasn’t until the day before that I knew I could successfully complete the race: temps were down, winds shifted the smoke and I knew my body could safely do it.

During my second of three legs around 4 a.m. that Saturday I was running 5.6 miles through a forested, back country road in La Pine, Oregon.

It was a brisk 35 degrees out as I inhaled the fresh pines and spotted constellations in the vast night sky as one after another runners passed by.

“Good job, keep it up,” they said.

“Thanks! Did you see that shooting star?,” I excitedly asked one who was racing by.

No response.

Well, I did.

I was following my friend’s advice from that first half-marathon: “Have fun and enjoy the moment.”

This was my favorite leg that I’ve ever run.

Besides taking in the scenery for those 67 minutes, I kept my body and mind solely focused on the task at hand: I breathed deeply and simply kicked one foot after another.

My focus was having energy to spare all the way through to my finish line.

A few stray thoughts did cross my otherwise clear-as-the-night-sky mind:

Since 2008, I have learned how to be more satisfied making decisions and moving on than making the perfect decision. And I am happier.
I am finally learning how to pace my energy and find balance, instead of doing “all or nothing.” This is being a completer.
I have come a long way—in every way. This feels like winning.

Where there’s a will, indeed.

May you find ease this week in honoring your heart’s needs and commitments.

Love,
Jules

August 6, 2018February 12, 2022

News from Jules | 08.06.2018 | Are You Ready for Adventure?

How is this going to work?

Is it going to work?

What have I gotten myself into?

The adventure has begun as soon as these questions start coming to mind.

Less cold feet or nerves, this is curiosity kicking in. Wondering what lies ahead on the known but uncertain path.

If it were more certain it’d be boring and less known it’d be scary.

This is adventure.

I happen to like adventure. Okay, love, adventure.

Not exploring the Amazon by myself kinds of adventure, but the running-a-216-mile-relay-race- on-a-team-of-10-strangers-and- 1-friend-kind like I did last weekend.

Or running a half-marathon.

After I signed up for my first half marathon in 2008, the next thing I did was go to the library and get some running books.

If I was going to do this, I was going to do it right.

The beginner’s marathon training books had some pearls of wisdom about running, and about life. Once you’ve set a training schedule, then determine your goal:

Are you going to be a competer or a completer?

A competer is someone who trains for a certain pace or overall time and then seeks to beat. Perhaps seeking a personal record. This is what we think of as “winning.”

A completer is someone who seeks to reach the finish line through running, walking, hell or high water.

The most important step: setting your race goal and being satisfied with it.

This is harder than it sounds.

There are two kinds of decision-makers according to an article I read in Real Simple magazine in 2008:

Satisfiers just want to make a decision and move on.
Maximizers just want to make the absolute best decision possible. This feels like winning.

Unsurprisingly, the article concluded that generally “satisfiers” are happier people through their ease of decision making.

Whereas the “maximizers” may have the occasional euphoric decision-making successes, they are generally stressed out all the time due to an acute case of perfection.

For my first half-marathon adventure back in 2008, I settled on being a completer—to train and make it across the finish line.

Read the story about this adventure in my latest blog post: When 2,364th Place is Winning.

What I’ve learned since then is that it’s actually really difficult to be a “completer” when you have a “maximizer” mindset.

It takes truly being satisfied with making the decision, any decision, and moving on with it, in order to truly complete things, come what may.

Otherwise, you’re still competing with yourself. And unless you’ve made that perfect decision and achieved the perfect outcome, you’re not actually satisfied.

Not that competing is bad. It can be very motivating. It’s just not necessary for winning.

And definitely not necessary for adventure.

What have you gotten yourself into lately? Are you ready for adventure?

Everything about that half-marathon had taken me outside my comfort zone and into my courage zone.

This is what I love about adventure: it’s fun and we learn a lot.

When we’re in our courage zone, life is an adventure.

May this week bring you to the edge of your courage zone.

Love,
Jules

July 23, 2018February 12, 2022

News from Jules | 07.23.2018 | How Do We Heal Well?

Last week my family spread my Mother’s ashes in a place that was special to us and her, a nearby mountain she had climbed 15 times by the time she was 28 years old and started having the three of us kids.

Losing her 15 years ago was a sudden and deep wound. And the recovery was long and deep.

Last Wednesday, my eyes and heart sobbed as deeply as the day her spirit left us.

As the ashes lingered on my finger tips then caught the wind in a tiny poof, I could feel the solid mountain beneath my feet.

Deep breaths. Still moments.

A beautiful blessing by John O’Donohue shared out loud sealing a universal ritual in a sacred place.

“May perpetual light shine upon  the ashes of all who rest here.”

I was able to easily flow from this moment into the next—sharing snacks and champagne on a picnic table with her grandkids—recovered to a normal state.

This is what we patiently seek.

Healing is a process of becoming whole again.

We think of it as slow or fast, but it’s actually timeless.

Sometimes healing takes years before we reach integrity again—for us to be unimpaired, undivided.

Over the past several weeks since my bike accident, I’ve been in awe watching my body do what it naturally knows how to do: heal itself. My job: to stay out of the way.

How do we heal well?

I’ve been acutely aware of the stages of healing and inspired to write a blog post about how we can move through the stages of healing more gracefully and easily.

“The healing process is remarkable and complex, and it is also susceptible to interruption due to local and systemic factors…When the right healing environment is established, the body works in wondrous ways to heal and [revitalize itself],” say the medical professionals.

Now that the scabs are gone, skin grown back, bruises faded and I’m walking and running again it appears that I’m all better.

But, I’m not.

There is still pain with certain movements, fatigue from too much use and instability in my balance.

More patience, more healing.

That’s why the recovery stage is such a surprisingly difficult stage in healing. The process of returning to a normal state.

But what is a normal state?

When everything is so healed that there are no cracks, no weakness? As if it never happened?

I don’t think so.

Perhaps the normal state is when our renewed strength is challenged, yet remains stable.

This does not mean we are unbreakable. Wouldn’t that be nice?

But we are whole again.

What all is healing in you?

Is it getting the space and attention it needs at the stage that it’s at?

So that even amidst the continuous and constant healing process of living, you feel glued together—not broken.

May this week continue to heal all that is recovering in you.

Love,
Jules

July 16, 2018February 12, 2022

News from Jules | 07.16.2018 | I Have a Gift for You.

Receiving is one of the deepest forms of presence.

This is the real gift.

Not what is received.

But the stillness of that moment beholding that what is given is exactly what is needed.

This takes an open heart and open hands.

And a little bit of sneakiness on the part of the universe, I think.

This happened to me today. Maybe it’s happening to you right now!

It’s becoming a familiar feeling. A gentle sense of delight that feels like washing your hands in perfectly warm water.

It’s been happening to me a lot lately.

More than usual?

Well, that’s a bit of a trick question, isn’t it?

One of my big takeaways from reading To Sell is Human by Daniel Pink earlier this year was:

We are always making offers. Not because we’re in constant exchange (though we are) and not because we’re transacting (what we commonly think of as “selling”) which we might be. Exchange comes with the expectation of receipt, whereas offering is part of relating: showing up in the world and seeing others, feeling connected, thus offering something you have that they need.

Offerings are constant, they’re happening all the time. A hello, a text message asking “What’s up?,” space to change lanes in heavy traffic, the last chipful of guacamole, a door being opened, undivided attention, getting treated to ice cream, an invitation to hang out, words of wisdom, or a hand-me-down dress.

That’s what happened to me today.

When I stopped by to help out with a couple things at my friends’ house, there was a note and a dress on the counter.

“Oh wow, I was just thinking this weekend how I needed more than one casual summer dress,” I beamed to myself.

Since starting my Buy Nothing experiment in 2016 (initially a year, now going on three) I have been given many clothes.

All offered—no expectation of anything in return—though some still with expectations attached. Mostly about unburdening themselves. And usually stuff I hadn’t needed either.

Other times, like today, the offer is exactly what I need and thus delightfully received.

This is the presence.

The offer comes from a place of presence, some sensing, some whispering to make the offer.

And then the presence to receive.

But, offering can become a compulsive habit of giving, an irresistible urge, and thus an unconscious act.

These offerings are constant, they’re happening all the time.

Giving, giving, giving. These are the ones with strings attached.

All different kinds of strings were behind my own constant giving in the past. From the sense of comfort found in leading and thus controlling to the joy of being seen for my thoughtfulness.

Leading and being thoughtful come naturally to me. That’s a gift.

If they are used to serve, not to be served.

And, they are only part of the equation.

Following and receiving attention are the balance. Those do not come as naturally to me.

My community and especially my “pit crew” have offered so much recently. Opportunities to follow their lead.

Even before my knee injury several weeks ago, I sensed the shift this year. A season of following and receiving, of opening and connecting more deeply, embracing wholeness.

Necessary learning journeys, I’m certain. Far from comfortable.

The universe constantly offers disruption that keeps us alert and so far this summer season has been especially “helpful.” Things keep changing. Each day new information shows up. Lots of new beginnings.

So yes, I believe I have been receiving more than usual lately. And it usually feels great!

Summer is a season of connection. A time to speak from the heart.

Say what you mean, mean what you say.

And a time to receive what ever it is you most need right now. The things you can name and say out loud and the things others are seeing and offering.

May your heart and hands lay wide open this week.

Love,
Jules

July 9, 2018February 12, 2022

News from Jules | 07.09.2018 | Finding the One

It takes a village to raise a child, they say.

Well, I say: it takes a race track to sustain an adult.

There’s nothing like a big change or injury recovery to remind us.

We are the only one in the driver’s seat of our own life—our race car. But, to stay on the track and in the race, we need support.

I know, I know. Not that life is about winning or losing, that’s not the point of the metaphor.

The point is the support:

The pit crew that quickly changes the tires, tightens bolts, cleans mirrors
The sponsors who contribute and show their support
The fans who show up and cheer along

Over the last month of limited mobility as my knee has been healing from the bike accident, there has been so much of this support.

So much more of this support, I should say.

We always need a pit crew, sponsors, fans. Not just when big things happen, but in our day-to-day when little things are broken or healing.

These people are often in flux, relative to the circumstances of our life—a reason, a season, a lifetime—and and to our needs at that time—emotional, physical, spiritual, all of the above and/or more.

As such, sometimes they’re on a project right now or sometimes they’re a best friend in a cycle of closeness.

My longest standing, closest friendship is going on 22 years. Most of which we’ve lived in different countries. There have been months without communication. Right now, we text every few days.

It’s not actually about the years or depth, but there is always a meaningful connection with these people.

That’s why they’re your pit crew, your sponsors, your fans, not just some person in the stands, some acquaintance in your life.

Bottomline, all of this support doesn’t fall on “the one.” There is no “the one.”

That’s the advice I was given during graduate school about finding a professional mentor and about finding a husband, actually. Same goes for a best friend. So stop looking.

“You can’t meet all your needs through one person,” she said.

Not only because one person can’t shoulder this burden, but because they can’t be good at everything, nor available all the time.

It’s been very clear to me these last few weeks that I could not have depended on one person to do everything I needed. And if I had, that one “relationship bank account” as Stephen Covey described, would have been way overdrawn.

Especially if that one person was myself.

Instead, I look to my pit crew. And my sponsors. And my fans.

But, especially my pit crew. Because they have the capacity, the skills, the attention to offer right now. To be in the thick of it with me. Not just cheering me along, but rotating the tires and getting me back out there on the track.

Who’s in your pit crew right now? Who’s crew are you in?

As an aggregate, I believe this is how we can “find” the one, how we stay whole, how we stay true to the only “one”: our soul, our self. This is a whole life.

May your wheels be greased and your road smooth this week.

Love,
Jules

July 2, 2018February 12, 2022

News from Jules | 07.02.2018 | Are We Living What Matters Most?

There will be no parades, no Statue of Liberty crowns, no plastic flags, no strawberry, whip cream and blueberry decorated pound cakes for me this Wednesday.

My resistance?

No, actually just lack of plans and still limited on mobility.

Besides, that is not what this day—this declaration of independence—is actually about.

With everything going on, one could easily justify going “on strike” this Fourth of July.

And by “everything going on,” I mean this sense of one-thing-after-another-can’t-catch-a-break inertia.

This is what I’m hearing from folks in my life.

And, so much of what I’ve been feeling personally for the last few weeks.

But, wait. The other day, I stopped and wondered:Is it really one thing after another?

Or am I just looking for the things to add to this list now?
This list of how my life, my reality and the world is unraveling?
Maybe things are unraveling and/or maybe we’re choosing to focus on the parts that are falling apart.

Brene Brown reframed the midlife crisis as a “midlife unraveling” in her recent blog post:

The truth is that the midlife unraveling is a series of painful nudges strung together by low-grade anxiety and depression, quiet desperation, and an insidious loss of control.

Ugh. That sounds awful.

And honest.

And useful.

Why? Sounds like an opportunity to me.

To assess what is. And of that: what matters most?

And then the hard question: Are we actually living what matters most?

Because this is our legacy.

And this is what the next generation (heck, everyone, but especially kids) is taking in.

Not what we say, what we do.

Show, don’t tell, we’re told as writers.

So, what is this showy, plasticy, red-white-and-blue day about? Especially if this place we claim as our home is having a “midlife unraveling”?

It’s about living what matters most.

Not just “Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” No, that’s the “tell.”

Independence, self-sufficiency, innovation, self-expression, transformation, adventure, and faith.

These are the values this country was founded from.

This is what we’re celebrating.

And all of the people who lived these self-evident values into colonies, into a country, into a society.

I believe that what matters most we often take for granted.

It’s good to have a nudge to pause and name what we know.

This Wednesday is a great time as you’re mesmerized by fireworks overhead or those cool, zinger bees that buzz around the ground, to reflect on these deepest values so that we may live them more intentionally.

Live them into the possibilities that always lie within.

May your week sparkle with meaning.

Love,
Jules

June 25, 2018February 12, 2022

News from Jules | 06.25.2018 | What Are You Protecting?

We know more than we think we know.

Many wise people talk about this. And I believe it too.

Then, how come we so often think we know things that we are actually clueless about? Things we can’t know. Yet.

Perhaps we are too “lost in the energy of the problem”?

As Michael Singer wrote in The Untethered Soul:

No solution can possibly exist while you’re lost in the energy of the problem. And…generally problems are not what they appear to be.

Well, that’s the truth, isn’t it?

Problems need to calm down. They need to breath.

They need space so that one can get to the heart of what’s actually going on. What actually needs to be overcome.

When my bike hydroplaned on the wet rail tracks and my knee slammed into the concrete three Sundays ago, I knew immediately that my knee was a problem.

Week One:

Within the hour it swelled up and I couldn’t bend it to climb even one stair. Uh oh.
On advice from a friend with First Aid experience and my trusty Healthwise Handbook, I waited for the swelling to settle down.

Week Two:

Then, I went in to get x-rays that confirmed no break, fracture or sprain.
But, still I could barely walk. My knee was too swollen for the docs to really know what was going on.

Week Three:

I saw the physical therapist (PT) a few days ago and now we know: it’s a strained MCL (ligament that runs along the inside of the knee) and knee cap contusion (which is a fancy name for bruising, but I like it because it sounds as bad as it hurts).
My PT nodded when I asked: “On a scale of 1 to 5 for knee injuries, this is a 1, huh?”

Not that bad, all things considered.

Still a problem right now.

But, one that she could not have diagnosed this specifically when she had so little information to work with 12 days ago.

“No solution can possibly exist while you’re lost in the energy of the problem.”

When I first read this in April, I wondered: what problems do I need to settle into deeper?

Which might be a question that’s echoing in the back of your mind right now.

I see now that it’s not a matter of me going deeper into a problem—that’s just getting more lost in the energy of the problem.

It’s the energy that needs to settle. The energy is protecting something.

Something pretty important, probably. What are you protecting?

Once the energy dissipates, then we can see what it’s protecting and why it flared up.

We have to move past being consumed in the energy of the problem in order to get back to a place of wholeness, to a calm, creative place of seeing things the way they actually are.

So that we can see the many—specific and useful—ways they could be different.

And that is how we stay whole even, and especially, as we heal.

After all, the whole cannot be whole without all of you.

May this week bring you extra space and discovery,
Jules

June 18, 2018February 12, 2022

News from Jules | 06.18.2018 | What If the Storm Never Passes?

You can wait for the storm to pass or you can learn how to bike in the rain.

Okay, the real quote is about dancing in the rain. But, the point sticks.

Life is about living.

And living it to the fullest, I believe.

Not the busiest. Full as in rich and satisfying.

Which life reminds us can equally take the form of being, as well as the doing.

I decided to go car-free in June as part of my ongoing Buy Nothing experiment and this year’s curiosity about my relationship with energy, our natural resources and my own. What are the trade-offs? Consequences? Benefits?

Feeling good about completing 48 miles (biking + running and walking) in the first week, I was all in. Rain all weekend? No problem!

Well, you know how cars can hyrdoplane on oily roads made slick by heavy rains after a dry spell? You guessed it. Bikes can too!

“Oh no” is right.

First week: 48 miles
Second week: 0 miles

Perhaps my life storm has not fully passed after the chaotic, one-thing-after-another month of May?

I was so hoping the shampoo breakthrough meant it had passed.

Laid up with a battered knee, I find myself in a surprisingly familiar state of mind. A living reminder right now, as well as an inspiring poster on my wall:

When one thing flows to another. When choices are obvious. When needs are met. And then some. When time is irrelevant. And the only place to be is here.

The time has been a gift. While recovery is new to me, retreats are not.

I cherish these times of being.

My sense has been that I mostly need to rest up and to focus any work on what’s critical, so that my body can focus on healing as quickly and effectively as possible. I am learning so much about my energy.

This is living life to the fullest right now.

By doing very little, but being very present in this opportunity.

Watching amazing documentaries about the Internet like Lo & Behold, reading excellent writing like Sherman Alexie’s memoir You Don’t have to Say You Love Me and interesting blog posts about bringing spirituality into your work, connecting online with new entrepreneur friends. All from my 40-year-old armchair, with my knee elevated and on ice.

As my needs become simpler, my life feels more effortless. My perspective grows broader and my heart opens wider. I am feeling grounded in what is truly essential as I haven’t felt in awhile.

Greg McKweon wrote in Essentialism about the disciplined pursuit of less:

“To discern what is truly essential we need space to think, time to look and listen, permission to play, wisdom to sleep, and the discipline to apply highly selective criteria to the choices we make. Ironically in [our] culture these things—space, listening, playing, sleeping and selecting—can be seen as trivial distractions.”

I think I finally see the whole vision of how Everyday Integrity will guide people to stay centered in this increasingly distracting world.

As the saying goes, life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass. Perhaps this bike accident and injury is an eye of the storm?

Either way, I’m learning how to dance (on crutches) in the rain.

May you move safely and simply through the week that you are given,
Jules

June 4, 2018February 12, 2022

News from Jules | 06.04.2018 | What Have You Been Ignoring?

For the last two weeks, I’ve pretty much followed my shower routine: shampoo, face wash, conditioner, teeth brushing, soap, rinse.

But, I kept getting stuck on step one. Wait, what is wrong with this stuff? Why won’t it lather?

I knew there was something funky going on, but I just kept doing the routine.

A few days ago I figured it out. It won’t lather, because it’s conditioner.

Oh geez. No wonder my new Mia Farrow-style hair felt so weird and greasy.

I had been using conditioner followed by conditioner for TWO weeks. 

This is stress.

Creating hazy veils of Maya, the Hindu word for illusion, so subtle that our senses malfunction and wrongly perceive or interpret things the way we want them to be. And, when it goes unchecked this sneaky stress becomes Avidya, generally agreed by Hindus and Buddhists as a state of misconceptions and misunderstandings of the world.

I bought shampoo. Of course, I’m using shampoo, I told myself each day.

Everything looked the way I wanted it to look.

Sure, it was just conditioner.

Just as it was just burning the rice, and just a speeding ticket, and just a dead battery after leaving the lights on and just wet laundry sitting in the dryer for a week.

As present in my life and day-to-day as I thought I was, I wasn’t. I’d pared my life down to the essentials this year: What could be stressful?

No more busy, no more crazy, way less complicated.

And yet, I still had blinders on.

What have you been ignoring? Has your gut been nagging you about something?

After countless “oh geez” moments of late and the mounting chaos, I had started sensing that something more was going on.

Streak of bad luck?
Mercury in retrograde?
Signs from the universe?

Perhaps.

Whatever the cause, my past experience is that chaos precedes breakthrough. Something from deep down needs to come to a head. A problem itself and/or resistance to reality.

Low grade stress was rapidly compounding and leaking into everything, especially the everyday.

The conditioner discovery was the last straw for me.

You know those moments. Mundane but profound. Tiny but significant. The crack where the light gets through.

I had been spinning out from my center, feeling undone, and wondering how to cope better. What to do to regain wholeness, a sense of integrity?

Just as it wasn’t actually shampoo, I realized it wasn’t about what to do, but what I wasn’t doing. What I was ignoring.

It was the moment I had just read about in Wild Creative by Tami Lynn Kent:

“Let go of the urge to flee when intensity and a sense of inner chaos build; the form within is being pressed and changed. Stay with the discomfort as long as you can. The physical, emotional, and/or spiritual compression you feel is your resistance to your expansion. Surrender the tension in your body, the resistance in your mind, and the hesitation in your heart. Surrender, and you will fill with new life.”

Depending on how you react to staggering truths, you stop cold, you breathe deep, you sit down. Or maybe you cry in the shower, like I did.

Hard, grateful tears.

For my deepest knowing. For answered prayers. For the stress.

The stress that has been my blinking “check engine light.”

Just as Kelly McGonigal describes in her TED Talk about how to make stress your friend that my friend, Tiffany, reminded me about:

“When you choose to view stress in this way, you’re not just getting better at stress, you’re actually making a pretty profound statement: you’re saying that you can trust yourself to handle life’s challenges and you’re remembering that you don’t have to face them alone.”

My trusty body had been talking all along—through my gut and my actions.

And I was finally listening. Finally ready to receive the vulnerability, detachment, and decisiveness I’d been praying for.

True to form, since this breakthrough so much has showed up.

Vulnerable, detached and decisive things I wasn’t ready to do a week ago, like debt consolidation through a bank loan.

And some beautiful synchronicity, like the text I just got from a woman in my neighborhood Buy Nothing group. She’s moving and needs to purge her bathroom. She’s got shampoo! Real shampoo.

May your eyes be wide and your gut be loud this week,
Jules

Was I being stubborn? Was I too determined? Was I stuck on a goal?

My focus was having energy to spare all the way through to my finish line.

This is adventure.

These offerings are constant, they’re happening all the time.

Not that bad, all things considered.

Perhaps my life storm has not fully passed after the chaotic, one-thing-after-another month of May?

This is living life to the fullest right now.

I think I finally see the whole vision of how Everyday Integrity will guide people to stay centered in this increasingly distracting world.

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