balance Archives - Page 3 of 5 - Everyday Integrity

November 2, 2020February 12, 2022

News from Jules | 11.02.20 | Press Pause

I woke up with a start. Because of the silence. Not the chirping birds.

Uh oh. I instantly knew what happened. I accidentally snoozed my phone alarm, slept through meditation class and if my intuition was correct, my 8 a.m. meeting had already started. I leapt over to my work computer and sure enough, it was 8:03 a.m. I sent my teammate a message on Slack, threw on a cashmere sweater and quickly logged on.

Ten hours of sleep? I knew I was off, but I persisted. It was only Wednesday. There was still plenty of week to go.

Not paying attention—or worse ignoring our own signals—is how things go wrong.

I actually learned this lesson from the trail long ago.

I learned that the first time I trip on a root means it’s time to start looking for a campsite for the night. When I start tripping, I’m tired. When I’m tired, I start making mistakes. From mistakes come poor choices. From poor choices come problems.

So, then why the persistence right now? Because it is the right thing, the necessary thing to do?

No. Because the prolonged unrest has made us all over-tired.

Like that inconsolable, nonsensical way that kids get.

By Saturday, when I paused for a quick lunch between my new shopkeeping gig at my friend’s letterpress studio and heading over to help my friends’ move, I dozed off—at 2:30 p.m.! I realized how deeply tired I was.

Tomorrow, I told myself. Yes, at least there was Sabbath tomorrow.

And then I remembered that I had plans! Not only had I been ignoring all the signs of fatigue, but I was so tired I had broken one of the simple guidelines for my day of rest: no plans, no work, offline.

I justified these plans as Sabbath worthy since hiking in nature is one of my favorite forms of worship. I knew better. Surely two hours of driving to the coastal range and 11 miles up and down Elk Mountain would be beautiful, but not restful.

Not what I needed on my one day off. If one day off was even enough right now.

It wasn’t.

Even though I stayed in bed most of yesterday. I watched movies and started two new books. I went to bed early, getting another 11-hour night’s sleep. And yet, as it took me 20 minutes to write a simple email this morning, I knew. I was still off. But this time, instead of “responsibly” plugging ahead, I called it quits for the day. I pressed pause again. I needed more rest.

Now more than ever, we all need to stay healthy. We need to stay alert.

The last thing the world needs right now is more mistakes, poor choices and bigger problems.

When we are rested, we can bring forth clarity, wisdom and sense.

May you pause before you act 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!

October 26, 2020February 12, 2022

News from Jules | 10.26.20 | The Work is Done

I nestled into my soft blue and gray wool Pendelton blanket and settled into one of the french wing chairs now looking west. I slowly sipped my echinacea tea and savored how simple life had become.

That blanket was a gift from my “New Life” blessing in May, 2017. A celebration hosted by my spiritual communities to recognize a big transition—completion of a decade-long season of transformative growth and the beginning of a new season of life, a new life altogether.

No one knew what this meant, the least of all me. But it needed to be blessed—sprinkled with luck, favor and protection, come what may.

What would this new life bring? A second chance at living the first life.

The seeds were planted that spring of 2017 and after several cycles of growth, the trees are now coming into maturity, bountifully bearing the fruit of this new life. Ripening since my final job interviews on the Fall Equinox. So much, all at once, and yet almost effortless. Nothing like before.

Starting with Back-to-School here in the U.S., then the cascade of Holidays: Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, I used to associate the fall with the hustle, long hours, strain.

A time of becoming exhausted and drained, sometimes burdened, often burned out. Completely lopsided, out of balance. Just the way things were. Too much to do in the waning daylight.

“Harvesting is the most labor-intensive activity of the growing season,” according to Wikipedia. Yup. Sounded about right. Thus, the actual harvest seemed a fitting metaphor for life at this time of year.

But I had it all wrong.

Reading further, Wikipedia states “the completion of harvesting marks the end of the growing season, or the growing cycle for a particular crop.”

The work is actually already done. We did it. Or we didn’t. Harvest is the fruits of the labor. Not the actual labor.

The planting, nurturing, nourishing, pruning. Creation, growth—that’s where the real work is.

Now I see harvest is a time of transition from creating into receiving. We are just gathering, collecting, picking. Aligning with what is. And, accepting what comes.

Just so, the pile of boxes and furniture sat in my new studio apartment for days on end. Finally, bit by bit, the main room was empty. Just the white ten-foot walls and the dark gray, fake wood floors.

How would this space take shape? For starters, with its best feature. I placed a chair in the exact spot that looked west toward the setting sun and settled in.

I slowly sipped my tea and savored how simple, easy, effortless life had become.

May you accept what comes to bear this week.

Love,
Jules

October 19, 2020February 12, 2022

News from Jules | 10.19.2020 | Embrace Uncertainty

I squeezed around the pile of boxes and curled up in Butterscotch, my trusty leather armchair companion since 2016. I could barely see the setting sun above the pile of boxes stuffed into my new studio apartment. As the darkness descended, it hit me.

I had no idea how this space would work. Where to put Butterscotch, my bed, a dining table, all my bookcases, my extensive art collection. None the less my three desks. (Yes, three…in addition to the studio’s built-in desk!)

No vision whatsoever.

It was incredibly disorienting. How does one find a way when the vision is unclear?

It’s about sensing, not thinking.

Back in college, I took a semester off and moved home for the spring and the summer. While I was very uninterested in doing chores, my interest was piqued when my Mom suggested we organize the attic together. Making meaningful order of chaos sounded delightful. We quickly butted heads. She wanted to move a few tupperware around, try it out, then move them and try out another spot, whereas I immediately understood the flow of what needed to go where. I saw the vision perfectly. One and done. Logically, it didn’t make sense to do it any other way.

Logically, it didn’t.

That didn’t mean it was the only way. Or the right way. It was just my way. And, unfortunately, this way had been accurate enough times in my life that it became the only, right way most of the time.

Before moving into the new studio last week, I looked at the virtual, 3D tour countless times. I daydreamed several different configurations. Yet, as I sat there in Butterscotch’s warm embrace in the actual space, I didn’t see it. I didn’t know.And then, I humbly realized: How could I?

I didn’t know anything about the space yet. How light came in the large, west-facing windows throughout the day. What displayed on camera during Zoom calls for my new job. Even how the kitchen cupboards opened, clanging into walls that initially seemed ideal for artwork.

All I needed to do: Pay attention. Notice the light, the temperature, the sounds, the flow of my days. Notice discomfort. Notice inconvenience.

These were the “problems” to solve, the solutions to find. These were the needs to be met. The walls, the furniture, the stuff would guide me, tell me where it all needed to go. Not where I wanted it to go.

It’s about sensing, not thinking. Thinking gets in the way of the balancing act and the process of discovering what’s true.

This is discernment. It’s slower. It takes longer. It’s uncomfortable—being in the space in between, the shades of grey, the ambiguity. It’s full of failure—experimenting to test how things work, or don’t work, too many times. And there isn’t one answer. No wonder it doesn’t initially feel “right.” Yet, this is how we access truth.

Luckily, the more we attune, the easier it gets.

May you find a cozy place to sit in the uncertainty this week.

Love,
Jules

October 12, 2020February 12, 2022

News from Jules | 10.12.20 | Owning What You Want: Part 2

The next turning point came in late August, right before my birthday, when I spent a sunny day on the porch and finished getting out of my own way.

It was the first time I had the house to myself and was actually in Portland all summer. My headspace was as clear as the cloudless blue sky. As I savored my bright yellow over-easy eggs and lemon water, I started to feel the curiosity brewing. I had submitted another job application the day before and the headhunter was quite optimistic. I wasn’t sure yet if it was right for me, but I was intrigued.

I knew I wanted to level up, to reach more of my potential. I knew what called to me and what was achievable right now. Even though I couldn’t perfectly imagine my next job, my home, my partner, my kids etc. it didn’t matter. In fact those expectations narrowed the vision instead of staying open-minded.

I started to wonder how it could all work. “Hmmm, if I make this much income from that full-time job, then what kind of housing can I afford?”

The more questions I asked, the more answers I found, the more notes I took, the more clarity I gained.

How come? Reality is reassuring, even when it’s hard. That’s because it’s real. I wasn’t problem solving, I was solution finding. I was in the zone.

The wants started pouring out. I sat on that hard plastic chair in the sun for hours.

I wanted:

work/life balance,
to work remotely,
to earn my market potential,
to live alone,
to be in a more diverse neighborhood,
a light-filled space,
to have access to the outdoors.

The checklist went on and on. It wasn’t a recipe, simply ingredients. I didn’t care what it made, so long as it tasted delicious.

Immediately, I got clearer on what is a yes and what is a no, what is a dealbreaker or dealmaker, what is a “must have” versus “nice to have,” what is realistic and what is a stretch.

It wasn’t greedy. It wasn’t selfish. That’s because the wants came from a place of need. From knowing myself and how I thrive. How I can best offer what the world needs most from me. And be open to receive the opportunities presented.

The momentum was building even though I felt stuck.

Over the last several weeks, I kept saying yes to anything that was a step in this direction, whether or not it “looked” like what I was expecting, until I said “heck yes!” to a job and a new home that matched almost everything I wanted (and a bit more!). It all came together just like that in a 24-hour period about a week ago. That is, after a summer-long journey of finding my way and finally owning my wants.

Life is leveling up, indeed:

Today, I moved into a new studio with a cute little built-in writing desk at the Arlo Apartments off Interstate Ave. in North Portland,
This week, I start a new job working remotely as the Learning & Development Manager for LegitScript, a growing software as a service startup in the Pearl district.

Keeping this newsletter going while working full-time and continuing to train for summiting Mt. Hood next year as well as finding my partner-in-crime will provide plenty of inspiration for sharing my learnings about balance and maintaining integrity—a state of wholeness—everyday.

So don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere! In fact, I could use your help*.

May getting grounded in reality actually give you wings this week.

Love,
Jules

September 29, 2020February 12, 2022

News from Jules | 09.28.20 | You Keep Going

Teachers come into our lives in all forms. Sometimes they guide us through a series of insights, sometimes it’s a just-in-time encounter. That right person at that right time for that lesson. If we’re paying attention, we’ll always find the guidance we need.

Over 15 years of practice and too many moves, I’ve collected favorite yoga teachers all over Portland. I stay in touch with many of them on Instagram — liking, tagging, sharing inspiration. I recently sent an article about how Fall is So Yin: Embracing Autumn Energy to one of my favorite yin yoga teachers in a direct message. Inspired, we set the intention to actually meet up in person around the Fall Equinox and learn what the harvest might have in store.

If the rains came, if the smoke cleared, if the fates aligned.

Apparently the fates were very aligned.

When we met up at the beach in Hood River, we were excited to be outside and together. Chatting about our week so far, we realized that the day before (on the actual Equinox) we both did the very same hike — within 30 minutes of each other!

Clearly we were meant to be in the same place at the same time.

Giggling about the synchronicity and the muck between our toes, we launched the rental Stand-Up Paddleboards into the murky waters of the Columbia River, then both awkwardly stood up and started to paddle. This was her second time, my sixth.

Having paddled on the Columbia before, I felt confident and quickly sliced the oar through the still water. I chatted for several minutes uninterrupted. No response. Odd.

I looked back and saw her way behind, swerving from side to side. I stopped to wait. Finally she caught up. I wondered out loud, “Which end of your board is in the front?”

“I don’t know,” she replied with a laugh.

Sure enough, we realized that the fin (the rudder) was in front. She was essentially going in circles. No wonder it was so hard and she wasn’t getting very far!!

I learned this was the way life had felt all year for her (and certainly so many others). A storyline I knew well, most recently from 2018, with many lessons learned about making one’s way through really tough questions:

If you’re following the calling, why don’t things work out?

How do you feed your body and feed your soul?

When do you give up?

You don’t give up. You keep going.

The goofy SUP mistake reinforced a lesson she had already learned: Listening to the call and faithfully following is important. But, it needs to be aligned to its purpose.

This is the way we keep moving, straight forward.

This was the first and the last time I would see her this year — I learned she was moving back home to Pennsylvania to regroup. To keep going.

Maybe one day we will practice together again. Until then we are on the journey together, in spirit and on Instagram.

May you show up as both the teacher and the student this week.

Love,
Jules

September 21, 2020February 12, 2022

News from Jules | 09.21.20 | Now is the Time

There won’t be an obvious shift when it happens. At least not one that we are attuned to.

Not like the rapid descent of light into darkness, casting a shadow across the whole country, that many of us saw during the total solar eclipse in 2018.

And yet there will be a balancing of the light and darkness during the Fall Equinox (Sept. 22 where I live). There will be 12 hours of day, 12 hours of night. This moment marks the half-way point of the “natural year.” It’s a very powerful time.

But, we’re only half-way there? It’s the mucky middle. How is that powerful?

Because it is ripe with opportunity.

The end has not yet come to fruition. If we stop for just a moment. If we focus and pay close attention, we know what’s working so far. And what isn’t. There is plenty of time to make adjustments.

In a way, it’s only the beginning. Considering the first half as experiments with best laid plans, then we actually know what we’re working with now. Detaching from the idea and aligning with the reality. Seeing things the way they really are. What’s actually realistic.

Here’s what I noticed this spring and summer: the more that I aligned to the truth of “what is,” the less I struggled.The trade-offs were less painful, the rewards were more enjoyable.

Life was simply easier.

Life is simple.

And I thrive in simplicity. Not in the complex, complicated, and optimized tendencies I’ve had toward everything, more and better.

Now is the time for change.

As we enter this new season — the second half of this cycle around the sun — What are you harvesting? What have you learned? Knowing what you know now, what will you do differently?

May you allow your true nature to show up this week.

Love,
Jules

September 14, 2020February 12, 2022

News from Jules | 09.14.20 | Say Yes to Your Choices*

As wildfires swept through Oregon and our neighbors, Washington and California, during the past week, pain and grief are being expressed through blame.

Pointing fingers, especially at Mother Nature, at the wind, at the flames, at the trees, even at the underbrush.

Pointing fingers everywhere except here.

Last month while at the Oregon Coast, I spent a whole day meditating on responsibility. Since this word is often dripping with shame, blame, judgement and guilt, I prefer to think of in the words of my former spiritual director: responsibility is the ability to respond.

That day, as the blood started dripping down my heel and the pain registered, my first thought was: Darn volcanic rock! My second thought was: Gah, these flimsy sandals!

I hobbled a few more steps, still focused on exploring the secret entrance to Neptune Beach. But then, I remembered my mission for the day:

“Spend today believing you are totally responsible for everything that has happened in your life so far. Just for today you can’t blame anyone for anything.”

This was my daily assignment from 48 Days to the Work You Love by Dan Miller and was actually why I was wearing those flimsy, red leather Salt Water Sandals.

I have a defining memory from my childhood that includes different red sandals, which I took off during family therapy and refused to put back on. The therapist told my parents to leave my shoes behind. I was five-years-old already, but I still knew how to throw a tantrum and hold a grudge. A few years ago, I reflected on why this memory was so vivid.

I recognized how I felt wronged, mistreated, ultimately hurt. I also understood how much I contributed to the situation and intensified my own pain. So, I bought new red Salt Water Sandals for myself. Now, instead of “putting my big girl pants on,” I put on my little girl shoes when I need a reminder to take ownership over my life.

Old habits die hard. This is why we keep practicing.

Now more than ever, we all need to take responsibility for our choices. We are hurting ourselves. We are intensifying the suffering. No one and nothing is doing this to us.

That doesn’t mean we need to be perfect. We simply need to own our choices. And fix them, when needed.

This is the ability to respond.

When I blamed the cut on the rock and then on my shoes, it came from that same place of feeling wronged, of being hurt — by something else. As soon as I snapped out of that denial and back to reality I immediately felt better. Yes, I chose to wear those shoes. And I chose to scramble on those jagged rocks.

So, I stopped and sat down. I opened my backpack and I used my First Aid Kit to bandage the wound. The responsibility wasn’t a burden. It was empowering!

And the sooner I acknowledged reality, the quicker it was resolved.

I continued exploring for the rest of the day with peace of mind — believing I was totally responsible for everything that happened in my life.

May you say Yes to your choices* this week.

Love,
Jules

*This is a favorite phrase and mantra from Dance Church, a fun and inclusive approach to dancing together at home (via livestream with option to donate) that I’m doing every Wednesday during Quarantine!

August 24, 2020August 26, 2020

News from Jules | 08.24.20 | Don’t Underestimate Yourself

Sometimes there is a thin line between complete certainty and debilitating doubt. Last week that line was a slippery, wet log as wide as my hiking boot across raging rapids.

We were about 20 miles into the 45-mile Timberline Trail trek around Mt. Hood. We had already completed many of the 30 or so water crossings. Yet again, I poked my trekking pole into the water to gauge the depth, took a deep breath and repeated a mantra that is a running joke with my friend so made me giggle:

You got this, girl.

It was only a few steps. It lasted maybe 15 seconds.

But I paused in the middle of the log because I sensed doubt in my tired body and the risky situation. Uh oh. And I simultaneously felt my center of gravity intuitively brace with certainty in my abilities.

That inner place where movements emanate from, hence “being centered,” so said my yoga teachers. I think my exact thought that moment was, “Oh yeah this is the balance that I’ve been practicing in yoga class.”

Two more steps forward and I skipped off the log onto the other side with relief, and even a little glee.

Every part of me had been training for moments like this. I was thoroughly prepared. Not just physically. Mentally, and especially spiritually. I could trust my vulnerability and my strength.

My doubt switched to confidence as I drew from everything I had been taking for granted.

I started training to summit Mt. Hood in September 2019. Each week I practiced yoga, ran and danced to get fit and agile. But as soon as COVID-19 hit Oregon in March, my mountaineering school was canceled. #HoodorBust, I kept training. Every Saturday during quarantine I loaded up my backpack with dumbbells and hiked a trail with as much elevation as I could find in the city. In May, I knew it wasn’t going to happen in 2020. Like so many others have this year, I pivoted my goals. I loved doing the Timberline Trail in 2017. So, instead of summiting Mt. Hood, I would climb around it.

And, it was a huge success! Of course, there were mishaps and challenges, blessings and adaptations. That’s all part of the adventure.

We ended up covering 15 miles, 18.5 miles (a hiking personal record for me) and then 11 miles — finishing a full day ahead of schedule!

I’m nursing two blisters and still slow on stairs, but otherwise I feel awesome.

Yet, I spent the days before we departed worried whether I could do the trek at all due to my aching right leg and the rainy forecast. I had a stomach ache and a headache the day before. Where did this doubt come from?

I was intimidated. I was uncertain. And I forgot.

Not only about how experienced and strong I am, but a backpacking truth: all resources are precious.

One is always careful with water, with food, with fuel, not wasting a bit. Just so, dwelling in doubt is like leaving a camp stove on when the water is already boiled. One is sacrificing energy — not only from one’s future needs, but one’s highest potential.

Makes me wonder what other potential I’ve squandered — or left untapped and untested. Where else am I underestimating myself?

May you find stability this week by completely believing in yourself.

Love,
Jules

August 17, 2020February 12, 2022

News from Jules | 08.17.20 | Finding Peace of Mind

As soon as the trail disappeared, I had that sinking feeling in my stomach. Distracted by my lurking hunger and the lowering sun, I trudged ahead even though none of it seemed right. But, those women said they stayed here the night before. And hadn’t I backpacked here years ago? Just get down to the lake. It’s too late to turn back now.

Was this my gut talking? Or my ego?

I tried unsuccessfully to stay present and clear-headed as I crunched through the burnt debris and charcoaled trees down to the lake below. It only got more eery once I reached the barren lake and pitched my tent. Besides the tadpoles, it was just me and the wind. Until I heard a branch crack, then huff-huff-huffing seemingly right outside my tent.

This was when my confusion about the whole trip turned to terror. Sometime before dawn the fear gave way to the exhaustion and I awoke with the cold Gerber knife still clutched in my fist. I’m still convinced there was a mountain lion on the prowl that night.

Whether a big cat was there or it was just my wild imagination, I came away from that backpacking trip with crystal clarity.

This was not the point.

I come to the outdoors for peace of mind, not for more stress.

As I set out last week on my own again, I set myself up for success differently and I was rewarded. When I rolled over and looked out the mesh roof of my tent (without flynet!) in the middle of the first night, I saw a shooting star! I woke up the next morning, after 12 hours of sleep, feeling refreshed and delighted to explore the Oregon coastal trails accessible from the campground.

What was different this time? Besides everything?

I focused on maintaining balance.

Matching my needs to the reality at hand. Keeping choices simple. Choosing the easiest option. Making slight adjustments. Staying unattached. But, knowing the objective. And staying true to it.

Balance seems to be part of a continual state of flow, of being — living at its richest. And it’s not only achievable when one’s retreating, for instance from the distractions of the city to the simplicity of the woods. In fact, it’s the exact opposite of escape. It’s resisting the denial that you’re right and the world is wrong.

Instead there’s an attuning with reality — with things exactly as they are — that makes you feel connected to it all. Even when it’s unpleasant.

Not mountain lion unpleasant. More like when my first month of income from Oregon unemployment checks matched my actual expenses in June within $10. Literally a balanced budget. Living lean isn’t exactly fun, but this alignment was delightful.

Or like this week’s forecast of rain right in the middle of the four-day, 40-mile Timberline Trail trek that friends and I have been training for all summer long.

Your head stays clear and your heart is unburdened. Not just peace of mind. Peace of heart.

Life goes on, easefully.

May you relish in saying yes to what you know, not just to what you want, this week.

Love,
Jules

August 10, 2020February 12, 2022

News from Jules | 08.10.20 | Your Mission(s) in Life

Then, what exactly is the point of life?

The answer was so plain and simple, I remember stopping in my barefoot tracks and smiling as I turned to look out at the sea through the wind whipping my bangs and ponytail.

Our purpose is to live in harmony with nature.

Really? That’s it? I might have even said out loud. Then, what am I so distressed about?

The first time I truly posed that question to the universe was on a personal retreat to the Oregon coast after I was laid off from my “dream job.” I had just turned 28 years old. I had completed graduate school a year before, for exactly this type of job, based on the talents and skills I had thoroughly evaluated, and thus invested in. I thought I was following my calling and I felt like I had completely failed.

The HR person was right. There was a “lack of fit” — not just at that company, but in my life. My greatest failure back then was misalignment.

Since then, I’ve studied many books about finding your calling (here’s a list of my favorites) to figure it out. And, boy was I wrong.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about the mind-blowing idea that Richard Nelson Bolles humbly tucked into the Epilogue of his classic job-hunting book, What Color is Your Parachute?. Here he describes our three missions in life in great detail. Wait, there’s not just one?!

He instructed readers to translate his Christian thought forms into their own. So, in my words, our three missions in life are:

Live in harmony with nature,
Live in harmony with other humans,
Live in harmony with our own nature.

Most of us, myself included, easily spend most of life doing it backwards: self first, then others, then nature (which is synonymous with “something greater” or “God” for me). I mean, it just sounds backwards, doesn’t it?

Greater, others, self.

Completing these missions—in that order—takes a lifetime of effort. Not just during one Sabbatical.

Easier said than done, for sure.

As I head back out on the trails in a few days, I’ll be attuning even more to the world around me to find my connection to everything that feeds my compassion for others and fuels my soul. Alignment starts from the center.

May you embrace the greater, others and yourself this week.

Love,
Jules

P.S. Listen to “A Missional Life: Your Calling” podcast episode for Suzy Silk’s reassuring pep talk about how far you’ve already come.

I 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!

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