Channeling the Unexpected

This has been a weird stretch for me. The back-to-school season coupled with truly getting back to work. It wasn’t until I had full, routinized days again that I realized my brain has been working differently. Not turned off. Just redirected toward what mattered most.

And now that I’m back to a predictable schedule, my pauses are telling me something new. I’d love to know what you’re hearing these days — for the first time or again.

Resting

An invitation to slow down long enough to hear what your mind, body, and heart are telling you.

I recently shared on LinkedIn how I’m in my glutes era. It’s not the vanity play you may think, it’s about longevity for me. I’m working to regain full mobility after a surprise injury to an area of my body (piriformis muscle) that I didn't know existed before February.

The glutes exercises include a key facet that’s uncommon in my other workouts: active rest.

It’s what you imagine. Resting, but not really. There’s still (plenty) of work being done during the pause. Balancing for 45 seconds on the very leg I just worked extensively is a test of balance and stamina. And yet it's enough of a departure that I notice new things. My breath. My heartbeat. A little celebration for what my body can do now.

What does active rest reveal to you that stillness doesn’t?

Remembering

An invitation to reconnect with your brilliance - the wisdom, creativity, and magic within and around you.

For 50 yards it was raining so hard that I could hardly see, and the next 50 yards was perfect, bright sky. There was one more torrential downpour before we got to my son’s school. There, it was bright blue sky.

Of course, I’ve been on the giving and receiving end of the query, “Is it raining over there yet?” But repeatedly going from having my wipers on the highest setting to not needing them at all in a matter of minutes was wild.

It was too cute hearing my daughter describe the phenomenon to her brother. And just as her voice reached its highest pitch to match her excitement level, we all noticed: a rainbow.

Had it rained long enough for that? Apparently. Peace and possibility can emerge, suddenly. They don’t have to be earned after an extended season of struggle. But you have to be clear enough to notice.

Naomi Hattaway of Leaving Well and I had a chance to talk about the importance of practicing clarity in all seasons so that it’s already yours in times of transition.

Check out our Departure Lounge conversation. How can you incorporate a practice of seeing more clearly now before you reach an inflection point later?

Recasting/Realizing

An invitation to imagine the life you desire and pursue it with joy as your compass.

I feel a little guilty every time I hear my son gush about how much he loves his new school.

Because I never fully imagined that as a possibility.

Instead, I put more time and energy against what could go wrong. Wasted time and energy. What if I had channeled that time and energy toward what is happening now: a sense of joy, belonging, expectation, and challenge?

He has found a happy place, which makes me exuberant. And I’m reclaiming my ability to root unknowns in abundance rather than scarcity.

Kristen Ingram of Black Girl Sabbaticals recently launched “Rest & Reflect Rituals: A Journal for Sabbatical Living.” It could be a wonderful companion as you prioritize lingering long enough to listen before casting a vision for what’s next.

I’m appreciating the various ways a pause can show up. It can be completely still or require some exertion. It can be a surprise reminder that peace and possibility are already yours. It can challenge you to root in what’s possible over what you currently see.

However your pause shows up, make note of what it’s telling you.

Joyfully,

Elandria