Tag: Elizabeth Gilbert

embracing enchantment

I just returned from the Big Magic Retreat in Cleveland, Georgia with the brilliant writer and one of my all-time favorites, Elizabeth Gilbert. The retreat was a birthday gift from Daniel, and what a gift it turned out to be. I met phenomenal women from all over the country – Hawaii, California, Ohio, Georgia.

We learned new mindfulness practices to help center my intentions for creative work, moved my body in new ways thanks to the African Movement dance class, threaded together beads and string in the ancient japa mala technique, walked and sat in nature amid crisp Fall air, managed to get quiet and still, and reconnected with my inner child thanks to the rustic sleep-away camp setting.

The experience introduced me to a new layer of myself and generously filled my cup. I have begun submitting query letters to potential agents and am anxious/freaked/energized to be able to introduce my debut novel to professionals in the industry.  One of them will be my agent who guides me through the journey of publishing and sharing my work with the world.  What a magical realization! 

The process of pitching my manuscript is thrilling and humbling, filled with equal parts rejection, terror, opportunity, and hope at every turn. Speaking of hope, I hoped this retreat would fuel me with renewed curiosity and confidence to do this “brutiful” thing (to quote Glennon and Amanda Doyle) of putting my work out there for critics to consume. And it did exactly that. 

Now that I’m back home, I have recommitted myself to daily quiet in scripture, blank paper, prayer and meditation. For my meditation this morning, I chose to sit on my patio rug and listen to the Ignatian Saturday Examen prayer, which invites you to reflect on the previous week and the guidance you seek for the week ahead.

Then I transitioned to the Daily Trip meditation led by Jeff Warren. The theme today was about tapping into a state of wonder, imagining that you were born in this moment and experiencing breathing for the first time. What would you notice? What would you see?

I rounded my back and let go of my posture, completely relaxing into my seated position. I imagined being able to see my lungs inflate and deflate in their real, anatomical shapes. Then I imagined them as a single round balloon inflating and deflating inside me. Then, the clearest visual came to me as I sat and breathed.

A butterfly. Its wings displayed an intricate pattern of purple, white, black, and gold. They flapped slowly up and down in rhythm with my breath. All around the butterfly was inky black night, yet the butterfly was lit by brilliant sunlight.

As thoughts and distractions arose, as they inevitably do each time during meditation, I checked back in with the butterfly and found it still perched inside me but keeping its position with some difficulty now.  Its wings were now rippling as if in an unseen wind.  Then, as I recentered my focus on its movement, the wind ceased, and the butterfly’s wings began to gently rise and fall, once again safe and secure to be there and dance. I smiled and opened my eyes.

This meditation was a beautiful reminder that the moments in our lives of pure tranquility are often fleeting and fragile. I am grateful I was able to round my body in stillness this morning and for a moment, observe, reflect, and just be present to beauty. Elizabeth Gilbert calls moments like these “enchantment” – where you find yourself in “the warm, vanilla pudding hum of wonder and well-being” grateful you were there, in that moment, aware and present to the experience.

One of the journaling exercises we did at the retreat was to write a letter from our enchantment, using the prompt: “Dear _____, I am your enchantment, and this is what I want you to know. I love it when…” and then begin each sentence with “I love it when” and see what came up.  

I’ll jump to the end and share that my letter from enchantment ended with “I love that we had this conversation and that we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other from now on.”

… and this morning, see each other we did. 🦋

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Please take a moment to like this post, share your thoughts in the comments, or pass these words along to a friend. Relatability is a powerful antidote. Appreciate you!

syncing with my sandbox

We’re in Key West for our annual long weekend, celebrating my husband’s birthday. While this travel tradition aligns with my husband’s special day, it is also a gift for me.  The gift of time, the gift of being away, the gift of no plans other than the occasional dinner reservation.

Daniel rose at 4 am this morning and biked to Garrison Bight to board the flats skiff owned by Lenny Leonard, his guide and friend for more than a decade. They pulled away from the dock at 5 am sharp, and I received a text from my guy by 7:30 am saying they had boated a 100-pound tarpon on fly, reenergizing his addiction to tight lines.

I walked Fischer, our Brittany Spaniel, down to the docks for a quick walk and listened to a podcast episode on the way. Elizabeth Gilbert, famed author of Eat, Pray, Love, is a close friend of Glennon Doyle, host of my favorite podcast, “We Can Do Hard Things”.  Liz came on the podcast for a two-episode interview, celebrating the podcast’s one-year anniversary. A woman called into the show looking for advice on how to move on from a desperate situation. The advice Liz shared with her is universally helpful to all people trying to be the best versions of themselves, me included. Here’s a brief excerpt from the transcript:

“My experience is that if I focus my attention on good orderly direction, healthy activities for myself, taking care of my inner little, going to sleep at the right times, nourishing my life in all ways. If I pay attention to those things, then eventually something happens behind my back and those obsessions dissolve… I can’t manufacture the end to that story, but I can turn it over to a higher power and then do what I can to nourish myself. And one day I look up and I notice I haven’t thought about that person in a month. And so what I would do, if I were counseling you, is that I would make a list of top-line behaviors: 10 things that you do that are really good for you, whatever those might be. And then every day, look at that list and try to live in those top lines. And live as much as you can in those top lines, because that’s all I am in control of. That is really all I am in control of. I’m not in control of anything else. And be willing to let time do its good work and let time do it for you, rather than you trying to do it.”

Yes, Liz, yes! When I have battled anxiety in the form of racing thoughts unable to sit still in my own skin, it is only when I lovingly but firmly committed to doing the things I knew were good for me, that make me happy and grounded, that those unhealthy, negative and brooding thoughts slow down and make space for more good stuff in between. I love how Liz articulated that connection while also giving it structure, explaining that when we are living in integrity with ourselves doing the things we know make us feel most aligned with our true and best selves, we will stop focusing on the things we can’t control by finding ourselves among the only things we can – our own actions. Her advice inspired to create my own list of top-line behaviors, or what I am calling my sandbox tools – the behaviors that create space for me to find and be me.

My Sandbox Tools

  1. Spending time outside among nature, preferably in the presence of those I love
  2. Getting 8 hours of sleep
  3. Moving my body – exercise, dancing, swimming…
  4. Drinking plenty of water and eating fresh foods
  5. Getting still and quiet
  6. Reading good books
  7. Journaling
  8. Swinging in a hammock, preferably near a body of water
  9. Creating – writing, designing, inventing…
  10. Paying attention to beautiful experiences with lingering curiosity – the taste of an exquisite meal, the points of light in a painting, the unique characteristics of each sunrise/set, the smooth motion of a satellite moving across a night sky, the shimmering dance of the moon on the surface of an inky ocean, the soft crinkles around my mother’s eyes when she laughs, candlelight flickering on the plates of a fine table setting, the sound of the breeze as it moves through palm fronds, sea foam fizzing across the tops of my feet…

It’s not lost on me that one of the many reasons Key West retains its magic year after year is because, when I am here, I tap in daily to nearly all of my top-line behaviors. I enjoy beautiful experiences, pay close attention to my curiosities, rest, read, journal, meditate, swim, dance, create, and spend time with those I love. In other words, I find my sandbox and get in sync with its rhythm that only I can identify and move freely within. I imagine that’s why time spent here always feels like hitting the reset button, like an opportunity to recharge and reconnect with my best self. 

Now, rather than pack my sandbox tools away until next time, I must remember Liz’s advice – to pull them out and use them, every day. That is how I will find and stay connected to my best self. On the island, on the mainland, and everywhere in between.

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Please take a moment to like this post, share your thoughts in the comments, or pass these words along to a friend. Relatability is a powerful antidote. Appreciate you!