Tag: mindfulness

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

one lesson about integrity every week

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! 

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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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

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

one lesson about integrity every week

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

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

one lesson about integrity every week

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

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

one lesson about integrity every week

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

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News from Jules | 06.25.2018 | What Are You Protecting?

one lesson about integrity every week

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

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

one lesson about integrity every week

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

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

one lesson about integrity every week

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

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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News from Jules | 05.21.2018 | My Guilty Pleasure

one lesson about integrity every week

Last week when Monday felt so “off,” I was stressed about details like cashflow, yes, but more so whether I was off course overall.

I woke up Tuesday and I got out the post-its. And markers. And whiteboard.

I came up with what seemed like an awesome two-week sprint of business projects (like this except for 2 weeks).

That’s my guilty pleasure: planning.

Wait a second, that’s your guilty pleasure?

Maybe planning isn’t “unusual or weird,” but I’m growing more and more convinced that it’s a bit unnatural.

At least in the way, I do it. And the way a lot of people do it.

Here’s what I’ve been noticing:

Entering this second week, I felt good about having an action plan. But then, when my body wanted to work on bookkeeping and clearing out my inbox instead of creating the practice guides I started last week, which are actually all about presence, connection and balance. Oh, the irony.

There was so much tension.

Throw out the action plan??

As much as I’ve adapted to this new creative lifestyle, I’m having a hard time releasing modes of measurement, control, schedule, planning. It’s so uncomfortable. And, I’m not just thinking about big project planning, but the day-to-day stuff—the infinite ways we micromanage our lives.

This felt like a lot given I was already coming off of another “vulnerability hangover” as Alison Faulkner described in a recent podcast. Sure, they’re avoidable, but as Alison asked:

“Do you love your comfort more than your goal?”

No, I don’t. I love the goal of living from a place of wholeness into a space of sufficiency and empowering more people to live this way—wholly and soulfully.

This guilty pleasure of planning is overshadowing my natural intuition to notice and adapt to what’s going on right now. But without a plan, how do I know where I’m going and how to get there?

I can use my attention to guide my intentions.

After a gut check, I was pretty sure it was intuition and not procrastination. So, I’m going with it. Bookkeeping doesn’t generate cashflow, but maybe it will realign the energy. I’m trying to see the forest for the trees, though still unsure these are the trees that need tending right now.

Perhaps this is what Tami Lynn Kent is talking about in Wild Creative:

How living from our creative core, our wholeness, our essence, requires balancing the feminine (being, visionary) and masculine (doing, action) energy cycles so that we can really go with the flow, naturally intuiting the next right thing and then doing it.

Or as Phil Powers says about finding rest in every step, not only as I’ve been doing every week during Sabbath:

“Concentrating on how I move through the world is important. It’s why I reach mountain summits and life goals with energy to spare.”

May you follow your gut and enjoy energy to spare this week,
Jules

P.S. Did you know that libraries can order books that they don’t have? So cool! I put in requests recently and am happy to report that my local library, Multnomah County, now has Rhythms of Rest and the recently published Subversive Sabbath: The Surprising Power of Rest in a Nonstop World (hardcopy and Ebook) available. If you’re curious about more resources to learn about Sabbath, I made a handy list here. And, FYI, I’ll be opening registration for the Sabbath Circle running this summer soon. Yay!

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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Guest Post: Practicing “The Sabbath”

By Lee Ngo

Ever since January 2016, I practice “The Sabbath.”

My work is great. It’s flexible, applicable, and thoroughly engaging for my personality type (in case you’re wondering, I’m an ENFP. Also, a Cancer.).

However, I have to switch work off eventually, even when it’s fun.

A while back, a good friend of mine and educational community-building colleague Julie Williams of Everyday Integrity (our feet leisurely pictured above) taught me about her practice of “the sabbath”  during one of our breakout sessions at the 4.0 Schools Community Summit in January 2016. It changed my life.

Traditionally a religious practice re-conceptualized to be about personal wellness and fulfillment.

We did an exercise where I listed all the things I do, and then I listed all the things I really want to do. Here’s what I wrote for the latter:

  • Be with my wife (laugh, love, embrace, etc.)
  • Eat somewhere I haven’t tried before
  • Draw something
  • Learn something new
  • Spend more time with family and friends

For the second list, she decreed, “take a day to do just those things and nothing else. See what happens.”

The results were instantaneous. My attitude heading back into work improved. I felt a closer relationship with my wife, who perhaps works even harder than I do as an academic. I stopped feeling guilty about being happy and in the moment.

The amazing part — when I went back to work, everything was fine. Nobody got hurt because they had to wait until Monday for a response. The world kept spinning since, to my surprise, it didn’t revolve around me.

For this post, I’d like to go into more detail about my philosophy, my practice, and some of my struggles.

Philosophy — Why do I do this?

The Old Testament features multiple mentions of The Sabbath, but most people quote what Moses overheard and paraphrased after coming down from an epic conversation with God on Mount Sinai:

“Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy.” (Exodus 20:8)

I’m not interested in getting into the debates over how God wants to us to interpret that line — that feels counter-intuitive. Instead, I’ve been trained and heavily influenced by sociology, so I look at The Sabbath in purely structural functionalist terms.

We need a day out of the week to not do things that stress us out. That includes anything resembling work, even if you’re passionate about it.

That, to me, is the function of The Sabbath — a day of release, mindfulness, exhaust, cleansing — a treat to yourself and vicariously to the world around you.

So remember it, and treat it like it’s a gift from a higher power.

Practice — How do I do it?

Choose a day out of the week when you consistently don’t work. For me, it’s either a Saturday or a Sunday. For others, depending on their schedules, it could be any day of the week, as long as it’s one day.

During this day, do the things you really want to do and/or have wanted to do for quite some time but feel held back for some reason.

Things that don’t qualify for The Sabbath
  • Anything directly related to work. Responding to an email, finishing that one report, prepping for an easier Monday are all examples of over-extending yourself for the sake of feeling fulfilled.
  • Anything indirectly related to work. Corporate training, meeting with friends from work who talk about it constantly, even volunteering with organizations that are associated with work. No matter what you do, there will be this underlying compulsion to gravitate towards what you actually need to avoid.
  • Chores. The word alone invokes stress. Some people find therapy in doing choices, and some are just necessary when you get the window to do so. The same logic applies, and I ask that you find a way to let go.
  • Long-term priorities. Taxes. Doctor appointments. Trips to the DMV. Cleaning out the rain gutters. These are all things you can do on the “other” day you have free. Put them off for just one day.
Things that might qualify for The Sabbath
  • Going on a trip to a place unknown. Don’t let the news fool you — the world is a beautiful place, and it’s worthy of exploration. I try to plan an international trip every year — I work hard just for that opportunity.
  • Visiting that restaurant you always wanted to try. Even if the experience ends up being sub-par, I’ve never met a person who regretted the exploration. There are many who share their passion through food — indulge them.
  • Sleep. Don’t overdo it, but wow, sleep is awesome and important for resting your mind. Try shutting off the alarm clock on The Sabbath and optimizing your sleep environment for comfort and sensory deprivation. See what time you really need to wake up.
  • Making love. Usually requires at least one other person, but hey, no judgment here. This could be sexual, but sometimes just a long cuddle session with a platonic friend does wonders for your self-esteem. Or do this exercise.
  • Exercise. I don’t particularly enjoy exercise because I frame it as the high-impact, steroid-raging versions you see in the media. Exercise could be a long walk, a hike up a hill, some light yoga, etc. The important thing is to force your brain to focus on other areas and give the nerves a break.
  • Picking up a hobby. This Medium blog is my hobby. It started on The Sabbath, and it’s transformed into my 1–2 hours per day of pure, unbridled, mindful self-expression. I haven’t drawn consistently in years, and now I can say that I have in 2017. That makes me feel awesome.
  • Watching a movie — in a theater. We tend to watch a lot of media while distracted by other gadgets — phones, tablets, and laptops in particular. Go somewhere where you’re forced to be completely immersed.

There are plenty of other possibilities. Offer yours below in the comments!

Struggles — What’s still holding me back?

I do want to acknowledge that it’s not so simple to adjust 1/7th of your life in such a way, and that there are internal and external factors holding everyone back, including myself.

Costs. Leisure time is privileged time, and there are many of us who have to work every day just to stay afloat.

I’m able to do a lot of these things now that my wife and I have steady incomes, but two years ago our breaks consisted of staying in, watching TV, and eating Top Ramen.

That was long before we re-conceptualized our behavior for the better.

Addiction. As I’ve mentioned before, this prompt was in response to my addiction to work, which started to contribute to some serious health problems, even requiring surgery at times.

Since making those adjustments, I’ve learned to switch off, enjoy the moment, and appreciate the things that matter the most.

The short version: work is ephemeral. Friends and family last longer, and they do more for your survival than you realize.

Fear. I remain fearful or anxious about some things that inhibit my practicing a true Sabbath.

Maybe I want to ice skate or try roller skating again, but after my last attempt, I’m terrified of the possibility. I could go bungee jumping or skydiving, but I have a perfectly rational acrophobia.

Some other fears are financial. Shouldn’t I save for a rainy day, especially in Seattle where there are so many of them?

I know what it’s like to live on the edge of poverty, even applying for Medicaid at one point. How can I rationalize a day of enjoyment when confronted with real struggles?

Practicing The Sabbath is not easy, but nothing worth the trouble ever is.

I’ve been making small but deliberate changes to the way I live my life because, frankly, I’m always interested in hacking it for the better.

On the Virtue of the Weekend

Now, I’m not sure if I’m getting older, wiser, or both, but I’m pretty adamant about keeping my weekends to myself.

I’ll occasionally pick up a side project that’s creative or socially-conscious, applying my unique set of skills. Other than that, I’m out having fun with friends and family.

I know I’ve written a lot on The Sabbath here and here, much inspired by my friend and colleague Jules (who launched The Sabbath Course, a 7-week program designed to help you rest and realize a sense of everyday integrity). Yet I still return to this issue because I still feel overworked.

In truth, I could blame the multitude of stress variables in my world, but that would be incorrect.

I am making the active choice to be busy and even bite off more than I can chew, and I’m starting to see things suffer as a result.

Even as I write this post, (and yes, I wrote this post on The Sabbath) I do so with the assertion that it is actually what I want to do today rather than what I’m obligated to do. There needs to be a designated time for that, and hence — the weekend.

This guest post is a compilation of three previous posts by Lee on Medium.

Lee Ngo is a global community builder using his extroversion for good as a champion of education, tech and startups based in Seattle, Wash. Lee spends his weekdays doing operational strategy to support a mission and programs that engage young people in historically underrepresented communities with careers in technology, leadership, and entrepreneurship. He uses his creativity to relax by writing and illustrating his blog on Medium. You can find him on Twitter and on Instagram.

Previous to his current role as Chief Operating Officer at The Greater Foundation, Lee has built passionate communities on- and off-line, for instance as host and facilitator of Demystifying Data Science, a 12-hour online conference that had over 10,000 signups and 3,000 live viewers from over 100 countries, as a MeetUp founder with an aggregate membership reach of over 15,000 and as lead organizer, as well as facilitator, for too many Startup Weekends to count.

Lee completed his Bachelor’s of Arts in Sociology at Yale University in 2005 and then received his Master’s of Arts Degree in Cultural Anthropology at the University of California, Irvine in 2008, during which he spent two summers in Vietnam to further study in the language and conduct fieldwork on the film industry.

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