This morning I visited a friend.  We chatted over a latte and a cinnamon bun. My two year old played with her sons’ toys and entertained himself for two hours.  I felt grateful and indulgent.   I felt more fully alive after the visit, even if I initially felt like I ‘should’ be cleaning or doing something ‘productive’.

She sent me a text first thing in the morning inviting my son and me for a coffee.  I decided within seconds.  ”Yes!”  I’ll go and let everything else be for the morning.  With my spontaneous commitment came a feeling of freedom.  Clear and confident.

We talked about dance classes, kids, grandparents, relationships and all sorts of topics that refresh me when I dive in and reflect.

We both came to the conclusion once again, but for me in a much more clear and solid place, that commitment is freedom.  I commit to a dance class and that time is freed up for me to dance.  There is nothing left to think about during that time, or before it.  I don’t need to think about, “should I go?” or ‘how do I feel?’ or ‘can I get a babysitter?” hours, or moments, before the class. Because I’m already committed and I have that sorted already.  It frees up head space, energy and time.

I read Pema’s blog after I arrived home from visiting my friend and I felt a surge of emotion. I was talking about my grandma this morning, over coffee with my friend, and Pema’s words resonated with me.  I had a similar relationship with my Grandma. It was committed: clear, purposeful and loving.

When I worked with Jeff Baker (a purpose coach) a few years ago, his work resonated with me.  I was resisting commitment generally and the truth was I had it backwards.  I thought that commitment meant restraint in some crazy way.  I thought that commitment zapped creativity and spontaneity: two of my very favourite life spices, because there would be no room for it.

During one of my sessions with Jeff, he could sense my resistance to creating systems (and this links to commitment for me) when I was learning to organize my small business.

He said, “Gillian, systems free your mind.”

And I felt like a changed woman.

I really did have it backwards.  Commitment is freedom.

in wild blossom spirit

gillian  

Please share any stories, or thoughts, with me here.  I would LOVE to hear them.

I want to embrace what it means to be shy and explore what it has taught me…

Shyness has taught me to listen -

really, truly listen.

Authentically.

Present and engaged.

It’s the kind of listening that is work.  Active.  Committed.

I tune in so deeply I can feel someone’s pain…. someone’s joy.

You know the saying, “…walking in someone’s shoes”…   I’ve walked around in lots of pairs.

When you’re shy, you don’t want to be put on the spot.  You don’t want to have to talk very much, especially in front of a big group of people. So…

Shyness has taught me to ask juicy questions.  To be a good listener you need to know the deep, open-ended questions so that you can keep on listening, and not have to talk very much.

Good questioning is key.

And, shyness has taught me that pretty much everyone loves a good listener.  Even fellow shy friends will talk… it’s magic.

If you’re the listener, you learn to guide the depth of conversation.   I like it deep and meaningful.  Authentic.  Raw.  Vulnerable.  Open.  Stories.  Details. Emotion.  Variety is important. The right questions veer you where you want to go.

Listening and effective questioning is an art form.  And, shyness has taught me well.

It’s taught me how to party and how to have an intimate coffee with a friend.

It’s taught me…

To garden. To dance. do yoga. Bake. Cook. Doodle.  Meditate.  Read.  Evolve.  Learn. Write in countless journals.  Write notes.  Connect with teens and children.  Soothe a baby.  Doodle.  Blog.  Play the piano.  Make art.  Play artistically and creatively. And, play with clothes and outfits…

because when you’re shy you have to feel comfortable in the clothes you’re wearing or this adds another layer of fear factor into the day…  It’s the feeling like you’ve forgotten to put on a pair of pants over your panties.

 Exposure is death to the shy. 

It is to be avoided at all costs.

And, what I’m learning, as I explore shyness, is that all of what shyness has taught me originated from avoidance – avoidance of exposure.

Wow.  That’s a whole other topic.

I’ll save that for another day.

I want to sit amidst a sea of gratitude.

Thank you shyness… for teaching me all of the above (even if the intent was to avoid exposure).

And, please share a comment below.  What has shyness taught you?

In wild blossom spirit,

gillian           

Shyness

It restricts and judges and criticizes. It’s cruel. It’s numbing. It’s an instant shut down. It dulls my spirit. It tames my passion. It keeps me bound from my truth.

Is it ego? Is it resistance? Is it reaction? sensitivity? weakness? It’s so tempting for me to look elsewhere to find the ‘answers’, but I’m going to trust in my own journey, right now. My own exploration…

It’s like the urge when I want to hug someone… It’s something that I naturally feel. An intuitive action. I feel compelled to embrace others. I often feel compassion. Someone’s pain. A deep loving feeling. Sometimes it’s simply a gesture – a parting or an arrival. Sometimes it’s my expression of caring. Sometimes it’s just a strong gut reaction with no apparent reason at all. It’s the human part of me. My nature. My being.

And when I don’t seize that feeling… that urge… to hug … hesitation instantaneously gets a hold of me and shyness overtakes my being. The hug doesn’t happen. Criticism takes over. The loving intention hangs in mid-air. It pauses. The great intention is let down. Enthusiasm is defeated by criticism and judgment.

And then the loving intention dissipates… and it’s gone.

A missed opportunity.

Another moment of being untruthful to myself.

Shyness grows easily amongst missed opportunities. Every missed opportunity is breeding ground for more. It’s “safer” and “more comfortable” not to hug someone. Criticism justifies it… what if they feel uncomfortable? It often goes back to what’s comfortable for others. “They” might not like it. And, yet, have I ever asked them? Do I have any evidence? No.

And, what’s more important?…

expressing my nature or keeping other people comfortable?

It’s an illusion, anyways. I can’t keep people anything…

and…

A joyful life isn’t comfortable.

I’m reminded of a quote as I write this.

It was a conscious making moment in my life. It resonated deeply within my heart.

When I was 16, my synchronized swimming coach handed all of us a piece of paper at the end of one of our training sessions. It had a Theodore Roosevelt quote typed on it…

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”

My spirit awoke after reading this quote. My shyness was threatened.

For me, the critic is ‘being shy’ – It points out how I stumble and could do better. It stands back. It judges. It criticizes. It feeds on my willingness to let it take over.

And, it is stifling.

in wild blossom spirit,

gillian                

I'm shy.
I'm admitting it.
It was probably some years ago that I admitted it before.
And, yes.
I'm still shy.
At 40.

It's been a long journey. Some years easier than others.

And, with my admission of shyness I want to explore it deeply.  
I have so many questions that I haven't really explored, truthfully, 
perhaps.  And, openly.
It might take a while... but I'd like to start now.
Please join me, if you'd like.  And, share...

hmmm...

shyness.

I can sense it in the students I teach. It's a special sense. 
Kind of an instant "shy-dar" energy that perhaps shy people
share... It comes with an instantaneous, compassionate reaction. 
I want to reach out my hand and pull a shy student
away, like it's a dangerous beast. I get a mama bear instinct. 
Stay away from this shyness thing, my dear, wild teenagers. 
It won't serve you.  I want to say, "stay wild. Don't hold back. 
Don't tame your beautiful, free spirits...  just grow as you."

Because...

shyness WILL hold you back.
It'll make you live small and you'll feel insignificant.
It will stifle dreams and possibilities.
It will reserve your spirit.
And, fear might just get the best of you.

I know.

And, what I also know is that...

I wasn't born shy.

And, I've pushed shyness away with healthy strategies and not so 
healthy ones. And, some of the strategies have been
around for years... maybe since I was 6 years old, or so.

Here is my list in random order, of when I don't feel shy, 
or AS shy in the world... 

playing with my children. holding babies. talking to teenagers. 
wine (with any combinations of the following people). 
strangers. family. friends. dancing. music. pregnancy. childbirth. 
yoga. taking the listener role. writing notes. passivity. 
one on one connections. avoiding... anything, really. 
especially avoiding conflict. swimming. disengagement. running away. 
meditation. pretending. going to movies. vulnerability. crises. 
imagining. daydreaming. clothes. home. solitude. nature. baking. 
flowers. playing with animals. plants. getting my hands into soil. 
dreaming. making art. purpose. telling the truth. 
living from my heart . listening to my heart. action.  love.  

There is a lot here for me to explore already.  
I want to leave it at this.  To sit and be...  

In wild blossom spirit,  

gillian

I wrote about my love for note writing two nights ago.

This morning I looked at photos… the outpouring of love after the Vancouver riots …

The power of a few words on a piece of paper.

Thank you, Vancouver.  Thank you for expressing your gratitude in love notes.

Love notes can take so many different forms.  And these photos sum up my love for note writing…

beautiful

Here’s what I wrote…

I’ll start with note writing…

I’ve always been a note writer… in greeting cards, journals, on shopping lists, random pieces of paper.  High school note writing was like breathing.  I poured my heart and soul out between friends… from deep philosophizing to details for the upcoming weekend… doodles, playful fonts, ball point pens, a quote or two from Cat Stevens and other great artists, musicians and leaders to inspire a thought or make a point.

In university (education) … profs continually seemed to say, “you don’t need to write this down.”   But, I needed to.  Some days I’d try to hide that I was writing.  Some days I just didn’t write…   and it felt like torture… holding back my true nature.  I finally got angry, took charge, and vowed that I’d never tell a student of mine that s/he didn’t need to do something.  I wrote things down in every class even if I was told, “you don’t need to write this down”…  I prepared myself with the response, “I need to write, insert prof’s name here.  That’s how I learn.  Please don’t tell me what I ‘don’t need to do’ thank you very much.”  And, I used my response a handful of times.

Note writing is my meaning maker.

When my boyfriend, now husband, gave me a hard cover blank sketch book to journal in … my notes became even more inspired.  A blank page was a thing of beauty.  I could write in circles, across the page, doodle with notes, play with fonts and different pens without the restrictions of lines… even though lines never really stopped me…

I’ve always written inside books I give as gifts, or buy for myself..  If someone gifts me a book I ask them to write in it.  Jotting down the name, date, and a note inside the cover gives books more meaning… a memory… another layer of story… more heart.  It takes me back to a sacred moment in time, like when my Dad gave me The Alchemist after my traumatic car accident in Europe.  It could be that I open the cover and it’s blank… this book that is one of my favourites…The Alchemist.  OR, it could be that one of my favourite books, The Alchemist, has a note inside the cover… a sweet surprise.  And, it’s meaningful… My Dad was thinking about me at a difficult time in my life and wanted to give me this book…  wow.

This is the stuff of life that fills me up – meaningful moments, surprises, celebrations, unleashed creative expression, deep thought, the empowered, playful human spirit …

The more secretive a note, the better – notes tucked into bike handlebars… inside a bouquet of wild flowers.  Note writing is a way to connect, inspire, express gratitude, and love.

in wild blossom spirit and igniting the spirit of note writing,

gillian

What’s in a name?

I listened to my Dad telling my Grandpa a story over the Christmas holidays.  He convinced his hairdresser, Barb, to charge more for her services, in her small town.  With hesitation she finally did and was now driving  her dream car, able to renovate her house, take a holiday, and was very happy.  My Grandpa, at 92, says, “Yeah, Reg.  She needed to get out of that small town mentality that so many people have.”Yes!  ”Small town mentality”… So easy to convince ourselves in mind, body and spirit.   Oh, so constricting.   Binding our beautiful spirits that crave freedom and expansion.

wild blossom studios…  A need for me to dig deep and grow this ‘small town mentality’ quest.  I’m craving freedom and deep, purposeful, expansive work.

It’s about being authentic and wildly passionate.  No holding back.  My freedom loving spirit whispers joyful sweet nothings in my ear, wild = free.  Where do you feel wild and free?   I love the dance floor (the living room will do most days), my children, and an abundant colourfully-filled studio with lots to play with.

blossom = growth, expansion   Oh, so much more love for the human spirit in this name.  A combination of freedom and room to expand.  Now it’s time to live my chosen company name… wild blossom studios.   Honour the expansive spirit, express yourself, in truth and love (bless, Madonna).  Here’s to honouring that truth, that freedom, that passion, that wild blossoming, that playful creative in all of us.