Summer has arrived in spring and it’s expected to soar past ninety degrees again today. As I walked around the newly planted deck garden this morning, I looked for signs of life after yesterday’s heat. The bright yellow dahlias were still standing tall, their round faces beaming like happy little suns. The white alyssum blossoms that surround the mandevilla to protect it against aphids, filled the air with their sweet-smelling joy. And the vermillionaire, a favorite because it summons the hummingbirds with its abundant red trumpets, looked full and ready for action. We’ll all need extra hydration today, I announced to the gang as I stepped back into the house. How wonderful to welcome new life.
In the spirit of growth and fresh starts, I’ve been thinking a lot about something my friend Mark said to me years ago. During one of our visits, I talked about feeling antsy about giving keynote speeches and spending so much of my life on the road. While I loved the energy and excitement of being with a large audience, I also yearned to be home more and to enjoy longer periods of time with a smaller group of students.
Mark’s response was a bit of a wake-up call. He said, “Well of course you’re feeling restless. When we’ve done something for twenty years and mastered it, it’s time to do something new.”
Over time, I took Mark’s wisdom to heart, came off the road, and the “Self Care by the Sea” retreats were born. Lately, I’ve been thinking about our conversation again. What’s the next iteration of my work, I wonder? Of my life, really? What have I mastered and what new assignment am I ready to take on?
Change is always unsettling, but as I get older and host a wealth of experience, I find myself becoming more curious and less afraid, ready for an adventure rather than bracing myself for something scary.
While I don’t know what’s next, what I do know is that it’s time to put a few things to rest. I’ve canceled the October retreat and finished up our “How to Cultivate a Calm Inner State” meditation series (you can watch it here anytime). I’ll be publishing a new, long-form audio workshop in mid-August with Sounds True. And I’ve just published a special new audiobook for those struggling with a broken heart because I understand (and have survived) the painful journey myself.
It’s now time to rest and reimagine. I might take piano lessons or learn to paint the flowers and birds I love so much. Maybe I’ll even learn to fly. Okay, probably not, but I’m open to new adventures!
I can only imagine what the next lessons offered will be so stay tuned, and let’s travel together. Because I’m a writer and teacher at heart, I’ll always be sharing my journey with you.