Tag: energy

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News from Jules | 11.30.20 | Stay Connected

one lesson about integrity every week

Just hearing her voice and the barrage of throwback, PG-rated Midwestern colloquialisms at her faulty FaceTime connection filled me with joy. Golly gee willikers! 

I realized just how deeply I’d missed this best friend* since she left for graduate school on the East Coast five months ago. 

Of course, there was a hole. This was my go-to-gal for the year and a half before she moved away. After 15 years being out of touch. Seeds planted in a fast friendship Freshman year of college. 

I nestled into Butterscotch for the handful of spare minutes we had before the special Thanksgiving Day yoga class started. I kept guiltily looking up to check the digital clock on the stove. I knew she was taking time away from her family on the holiday. 

Scared to see the time and simultaneously relieved to see many more minutes left. Somehow conversations with best friends transcend time. Somehow one minute lasts 300 seconds. 

And I was grasping for every extra-long minute. 

When class started streaming, it was immediately just like Sunday mornings once-upon-a-time last year, the two of us sitting on our mats front-and-center before this favorite yoga teacher in the attic studio.

Even through a laptop screen the adorably youthful and yet wildly wise teacher immediately enraptured all of us with her quotes from Mark Nepo, her giggles, her rhetorical questions. It was as disarming as always. 

“What does enoughness mean to you?”

“What keeps you from the energy of gratitude?”

“Who are you and what would you do without the grasping?” 

Between still breaths of meditation, quiet moments of guided journaling, and fast flows from hard-to-harder-to-hardest poses, I noticed how connected I felt. To the teacher and all the invisible classmates, including my best friend. 

Not only could my body remember what it was like to flow together in-person, I sensed the presence of my best friend right there in my apartment.

Sitting propped up on the pastel Mexican yoga blanket—a hand-me-down from her. Touching the thick pulpy pages of my journal—a gift from her. Surprisingly rising up into Baby Grasshopper pose—in her colorful hand-me-down yoga leggings. 

I also noticed: I was wearing my favorite hand-me-down sweater from my sister. Another best friend’s art on long-term loan hung on my wall. Near the fancy french armchairs from my childhood home. 

I was surrounded by the energy of my relationships. While it was not as immediate, as close, as I’d prefer them to be, it was enough. It was plenty. 

As we took our final closing breaths, hands pressed together at our hearts, there was less of a hole. More of a whole. 

According to the Yoga Journal, “Namaste represents the belief that there is a Divine spark within each of us that is located in the heart chakra. The gesture is an acknowledgment of the soul in one by the soul in another.”

That we are all connected. 

That we are always connected. 

No matter what keeps us apart. 

May your holes feel holy this week.

Love,
Jules

*Some people might have one, superlative best friend. I have nine, currently. It is a different type of connection with a different type of friend. One that transcends time or distance. And doesn’t go away, even if it is discontinued. I wish that we were as loving, as kind, as giving, as honest, as attentive to all of our friends. To anyone that we interact with. But, we’re not there yet. For now, we gratefully practice with our “best” friend(s). 

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News from Jules | 11.23.20 | It’s the Little Things

one lesson about integrity every week

Until I saw them shivering in the rain outside of my apartment building last week, it hadn’t really hit me that I wouldn’t see them on Thanksgiving. 

My nephew and nieces ran from my sister toward me in their galoshes, raincoats and facemasks to announce why they had stopped by. They handed me a pink gift bag with gold sparkly tissue paper. Inside there was a Mason jar with a votive candle, covered with red- and yellow-shaped leaves and more gold sparkly tissue paper. The kids wrote on tags tied to the candle with a ribbon: “We’re really grateful for you. Light this candle and know that we are with you in spirt.” 

Of course, I cried after they left. 

Both for the deeply meaningful gesture and for the reality. 

For the unwanted distance from those whom we hold dear. 

Those that bring meaning to our traditions. To traditions that bring order to our constantly changing lives. To order that gives us something to look forward to. Though can also get us stuck in the past and out of the present. 

“This year, I haven’t really been looking forward to Christmas and the Holidays with much anticipation or interest.”

Sound familiar?

I actually wrote that right after Thanksgiving, way back in 2013. It was in a post on one of my very first blogs—the adorable first generation of Everyday Integrity—that I forgot about until the other day. 

Then, as now, one of my best friends and I were struggling to get into the holiday spirit. So, I wrote an Advent Series of blog posts—one every day until Christmas as a gift for her. Each post had something special about this time of year. An ode to the little things. A new link to open each morning. 

That commitment keep me present all holiday season long.

Each day I needed to find the holiday spirit in the world around me. Some days I literally ran into Mrs. Claus in the grocery store. Other days it was a s-t-r-e-t-c-h. It truly turned into the gift that kept on giving. Almost more for me than for my best friend. 

It helped me see past all of the shopping-buying-wrapping-shipping-traveling-cooking-overeating-drinking stress, to get back to the Tiny Tim essence of the holiday spirit. The generosity, the magic, the love, the little things. 

Like a handmade candle to be with my family in spirit this Thanksgiving. Or the email from my dad the other day, Subject: “Merry Xmas,” with a year’s subscription to The New York Times. 

What would Tiny Tim say about this year—staying a crutch length away from everyone, if together at all during the holidays? These holy days of dark winter.

“God bless us, every one!” 

May you cherish all the little things this week. 

Love,
Jules

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News from Jules | 11.16.20 | Just the Beginning

one lesson about integrity every week

Done is such a satisfying feeling. All the effort, usually twice as much as expected, coming to sweet completion. 

After hanging the last piece of art last weekend, I slid over to the built-in desk, across the wide-open studio in my pink wool socks, Risky Business-style.

Appropriately, the finishing touch on the apartment was to set up my altar—a place for my intentions and prayers to be held and nurtured. One by one, I unpacked sacred items from my Sabbath box.

Rose quartz for unconditional love. Tiger’s eye for protective, grounding energy. Palo Santo for cleansing and clearing negative energy. Lakshmi, the Hindu goddess of fortune, beauty, fertility, and prosperity. 

A $100 bill! Holy Moly. 

I was literally five times as surprised and delighted as I was a couple of weeks ago when I found twenty bucks in my winter coat. It took me a second to remember the significance. And then, the tears welled up in my eyes.

I remembered withdrawing the one hundred dollar bill before the spring equinox this year when I was still seeking full-time employment and a home of my own. Following in the tradition of an ancient Mexican tribe, it was the most I could easily afford, placed in a bowl on my altar to humbly call forth prosperity. ​

Just as I had a few years ago when the most I could easily afford was five dollars. How far I’d come. 

Benjamin Franklin looked straight at me with lip curled in the tiniest smile. But mostly brow furrowed, eyes heavy with wisdom. Now, just a week after the 2020 presidential election and just a month after starting my new job, I could hear him say:

Yes, you did it. It is done. And this is just the beginning. Let’s get it right this time.

I held the almost weightless bill in my hand, examining what I so often take for granted. My faith. My privilege. 

On one side, “In God We Trust.” On the other side, “The United States of America.” And just below those thick all caps letters, so easy to miss in fine print: This note is legal tender for all debts, public and private.

It hit me. How we see ourselves in control. And yet, how deeply beholden we are. How deeply in debt we are—emotionally, physically, spiritually, ecologically, and yes, financially. As a country. As a people. As people.

For me, I have a second chance (or third, or fourth) to try once again to fulfill my calling while also making a living. 

Just so, for Americans, we have a chance to get it right for the first time. Starting now. 

As Lynne Twist so wisely stated in The Soul of Money:

“This is not a time of mere change. This is a time of transformation, and transformation comes not out of scarcity but out of the context of possibility, responsibility, and sufficiency.”

Sufficiency: When needs are met, for all. 

Living within our means.

No longer in debt, but ever indebted for the gift of this life.

May you continue to seek out the truth this week. 

Love, 
Jules

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News from Jules | 11.02.20 | Press Pause

one lesson about integrity every week

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

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News from Jules | 09.07.20 | Are We There Yet?

one lesson about integrity every week

I debated about writing to you since it’s a holiday. Though it is a potentially significant week in the journey.  So, it’ll keep it brief. 

No, we are not there yet. I am not there yet.

But, we are making progress.  

When I reframed my own unemployment as a Sabbatical, I gained a reason to Carpe Diem, instead of just being in limbo. It was not to create meaning, but infuse purpose. Writing is where I weave meaning into the process. These are the ways I cope, or deal effectively with something difficult.

I saw the vision, I set the goals and then off I went:

  • studying a career development book,
  • tackling my personal finance projects,  
  • training aggressively toward my Timberline Trail trek around Mt. Hood, accomplished a couple weeks ago. 

So, with many of these goals complete, I was surprised last week. I felt sad and a bit disoriented that I was not going back to work yet. Apparently, in claiming the Sabbatical mindset, I also subconsciously attached a timeframe of seven weeks: July 19 through Labor Day. I forgot that life is actually open-ended right now. 

Tired of the persistence, of the optimism, of the journey itself. Ready for something better. 

Just like a kid in the middle seat on a long road trip, I wondered out loud: Are we there yet?

Sound familiar? With COVID-19, with the Presidential Election, with systemic racism, with climate change. These are the biggies right now, but the list goes on for the whole and for each of us personally. 

Unfortunately, I have no truths to tell about when we will be there. Or when I will be there. 

I do know we are here and not there. We are making progress. We can get there. 

And we need more snacks. 

May you find simple ways to keep going this week. 

Love,
Jules

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News from Jules | 08.24.20 | Don’t Underestimate Yourself

one lesson about integrity every week

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

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News from Jules | 7.27.2020 | Get Fear Out of the Way

one lesson about integrity every week

The first two weeks of this new interim state of unemployment, I did life maintenance: iPhone fixed, car detailed, checkbook balanced, direct deposit set up for unemployment benefits. 

Last week, I started doing spiritual maintenance. 

I retreated by myself to the woods. 

I read 48 Days to the Work You Love in the hammock in the evenings, then reflected during my rigorous daily training hikes. Dang, this book goes real deep, real fast:

  • If your job changes, does your purpose change? 
  • What have been the happiest, most fulfilling moments in your life? 
  • If nothing changed in your life in the next five years, would that be okay? 

No. It wouldn’t be okay. 

How come? Because I’m off-mission.

Slightly, but enough to make life a lot harder than it needs to be. Sacrificing energy from my deepest needs to simply making do. 

Take one of my hikes last week: I wanted to finally reach Barrett Spur, an 8,000 ft. rock outcropping on Mt. Hood’s north face, which I have camped below many times. About a mile or two in, the trail was completely obscured with snow. Options included: turn around and attempting a different time, go up the snow using crampons for the first time and follow GPS along the trail or bushwhacking the ridge along the basin. Even though there wasn’t a trail to follow, choosing the third option seemed less risky and less scary. It also took HOURS to cover a couple miles and depleted enough energy that I almost turned around at the trail junction, instead of proceeding to the Spur summit. 

My fear was getting in the way of my goal. Not only achieving the goal, but in the simplest way possible, with energy to spare.

I only made it to the top because a kind, older man came along. He was also pooped, but way happy to lead the way having done the Spur many times before. 

This is why I’m rereading this book. This is why I’m training to summit Mt. Hood. This is why I’m being intentional about this time-off as a Sabbatical instead of just “funemployment.” I sense I’m not fully delivering what I was put on earth to do in this lifetime yet, even though work – my job, career and even vocation – has taken up so much of my time. It has also taken a disproportionate amount of energy and sacrificed other parts of having and sharing a full, integrated life with a family of my own. 

I want to level up. Not accomplish more things, but break through the fears. Learn balance, gain accountability, act selflessly. 

It has been a beautiful life. Just harder than it needs to be. 

I’m close to the trail, but not on it. That is what needs to change in my life over the next five years. 

May you notice extra efforting this week, and adjust accordingly.

Love, 
Jules

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News from Jules | 07.20.2020 | Carpe Diem

one lesson about integrity every week

After nearly two years of working hard on programs for Nike, the California Association of Resource Conservation Districts and Stanford University, I find myself among the unemployed masses of COVID-19. One of the lucky who is already receiving unemployment insurance benefits and still has group healthcare coverage.

I’m choosing to see this time as fulfillment of the 2020 sabbatical goal I set years ago. Sure, I’m not lounging on a beach in Kauai as I had imagined, but it is a gift of time regardless. And since I have no idea how long it will last, my mantra is: Carpe Diem.

Living every day to the fullest.

A lot like my weekly Sabbath practice actually. And yes, Aha! moment — Sabbatical and Sabbath are from the same root!

Perhaps I will get 7 more weeks to focus on studying, living, being, growing before launching to the next level. Wouldn’t that be amazing? 

So far, I’ve had two full weeks to rest up and reset on basic needs. Now, I’m ready to dig in. Yesterday, I started studying 48 Days to the Work You Love. Reading this book after job loss in 2010 changed the way I approached my job, career and calling over the last decade and was an integral part of learning faith. Instead of just reading it, this time I’m actually doing the daily assignments. 

To hold myself accountable, I’ll be blogging and sending these weekly updates as a way to process life and share what I’m discovering. 

Do you enjoy feeling inspired? Are you curious about what I’m learning? Yay! Me too.

Then keep reading. Oh and follow instagram too for fun pictures! 

If you haven’t missed these weekly emails and/or your inbox is too full already, now’s a good time to unsubscribe (click link at the bottom). 

May you notice the hesitant moments this week and go for it anyways. 

Love,
Jules

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News from Jules | 10.15.2018 | Go Ahead and Pick the Low Hanging Fruit

one lesson about integrity every week

Now, I can see how September’s fullness was only the transition, the ripening as we move into a new season.

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.

But, instead of leveling off, everything is picking up. 

After all of that extra efforting, how could there be more?

Especially as important things, like my writing practice and blogging, fell by the wayside (as I thought it might, but hoped it wouldn’t).

How will I get back to my norm?

I wonder as I sit down at my desk after weeks away from my own rhythm.

Funnily, I notice the tree outside of my second story office window in the new house is changing—not only expressing autumn, but also all seasons in a sense. 

Some branches are already bare, a preview of winter.

Some branches are full of green leaves, holdouts from the summer foliage.

Though most are in transition making their way from green to red. Eventually to brown and on the ground.

Just so, life feels full and ripe.

As if we are not only harvesting the abundance of this one new season, but of them all.

And in a way, we are.

A tree can not bear fruit without seeds.

A seed can not sprout without compost.

We are harvesting the before, the start, the middle, the right now.

Maybe that’s why life feels so ripe?

So ripe it must be plucked. Right now.

We must “Carpe diem.” 

For me, that has been opportunities showing up almost daily that are an instant, yes! 

Free tickets to lectures, getting introduced to new colleagues, impromptu paid facilitation gigs, invitations to meditation classes, teaching a live version of the Sabbath course.

At moments it has felt like too much goodness. And then, I remember that there are seasons we sow and seasons we reap. It’s all part of a greater cycle. 

This is the season for seizing. 

Because just like fruit, just like flowers, just like everything, there is too ripe.

The moment does pass.

Especially if we get stuck in overwhelm, focusing on the everything, instead of what’s at hand.

A wise person (probably a Buddhist) once said:

While many things may be at hand, see only the task that is.

What task is at hand for you?

What is hanging right there before you?

The low hanging fruit, literally.

Go ahead. Pick the low hanging fruit. All of it. 

And what does not come to be, what you aren’t able to pluck—to harvest—in time, let that pass with just as much zeal.

This is where we find balance. 

Remembering this is a time of abundance—both in opportunity and distraction.

The one is almost placed into your hand. The other requires effort to reach.

You’ll know which is which.

May you savor the juicy possibilities that present themselves this week. 

Love,
Jules

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News from Jules | 10.08.2018 | What Are You Harvesting?

one lesson about integrity every week

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! 
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