"Tell me, what is it you will you do with your one wild and precious life?" ~Mary Oliver


Imagining Truth

This morning, reading the Sunday NY Times (yes, I savor the Sunday edition throughout the week) a piece jumped out at me. Gave me pause. About an author---and his book. 

An avid reader. I must confess, that my "appetite" for reading sometimes exceeds the hours in the week...or a lifetime!. In fact, you could call this book/idea loving of mine a slight addiction...enabled by Amazon's single click ease! And you'd be right. The stack of books next to my bed could be entered in the Olympics. And win! In fact, a friend recently went up to put his coat on our bed during a party--and came down announcing that he'd taken a photo in out bedroom---of my bookstack! (I released the "shoulds" of reading them long ago---freed up by the words of Thomas Moore, author of "Care of the Soul", who said his books surrounding him were like friends---he'd never read them all, but loved having them around! Now you're talking!)

So, it will come as no surprise that Jonah Leher's recently released, "Imagine~How Creativity Works" is in my kitchen counter stack (of course these bookfriendstacks are in every room of our house!) waiting to be enjoyed. Which brings me to today's news. Apparently Jonah made up some of the quotes---and attributed them to Bob Dylan. Why? Because, in an interview he was caught off guard---and told a small lie--which led to the next and the next. (See the British sitcom "Coupling"  Season Two episode "Naked" for an outrageously funny and poignant example of this!)

First blush: Smug. It's great that I don't do that. I feel for him.

Second deeper knowing: Not so fast, Lynn. I'm not exempt. I've done this. Not to this extent, maybe---but this is a slippery slope---one that begins with simply being less than authentic. Less than real in real time.  No, I haven't plagiarized or made stuff up.  But truly, I realize that I'm not exquisitely honest (thank you Gay Hendricks for coining this phrase). I mean really. ("Does this dress make my butt look big?") So I got to what ways in my life am I less than 100% authentic? And I'm guessing you know those zones, too. So let's go there. Let's invite that kind of living. And sharing. And truth-telling (not the let it all hang out like raw laundry cuz I'm thinking it kind...but the real, honest, heart and soul kind).

I'll meet you there.



Why We Do What We Do...

It's a great question. Posited by a friend. Answered by many. Why do you do what you do? I mean really?? You'll find a glimpse into my answer...I'm guest blogger #20! Enjoy!


Cherry Blooming

Ashes my burnt hut

but wonderful

the cherry

blooming on my hill



You can feel it. In our beloved (and often very divided) community. The fires now 70% contained, there is a welcome silver lining---brought by the fires that last week were devastating. Truly devastating to so so many. We were spared. Our preparations ultimately not needed. The videotape is now made of our home. That was a great byproduct----you know---doing the thing that's been on your 'good idea' to do list forever. Now done. I urge you to do the same. Now. BEFORE the fire, flood or natural disaster. Because you can. And with a cellphone with video---it was truly easy. Won't you do that----in honor of all those who lost everything?? In a proactive move of life and hope. With the hope that you, too will never need it??

But that's not all. Soooooooo much good is coming from the fire! It's everywhere. This silvery emergence of new possibility in our town. In the wake of disaster. In our broken open hearts and lives. It feels very much like after 9/11. We are fertile ground. For goodness. For our best selves to rise. And they are. It's so evident everywhere we look. Like the crowds gathering at dusk to cheer the firefighters as they come in off their shifts. Like the 4th of July concert (of course no fireworks here this year!) being co-sponsored by a conservative religious organization and a liberal leaning newspaper----with hundreds of others chipping in. With national names, and the local cowboy musicans whose ranch burned up in flames. Symphony and soul. All gathering. All raising money. All sold out. And, in an unprecedented move---this concert is being live simulcast be all our local TV stations and many local radio stations. Just the thought of it gives me goosebumps. Makes me so proud. THIS is who we are. THIS is our better selves, rising right out of the ashes. Becoming the new story for our town. The better story.

Now, here's the funny part. Last week, amidst the fire, I wrote about the really inspirational words we were given when our house burned down thirty years ago. "Ashes my burnt hut, but I rejoice, for now I can see the sky." Words that have carried me through the years. Perspective shifting words---that change everything. I've shared them with many. So-----what fun to learn today that they aren't actually the words that were sent? It turns out---they are my words (I think), morphed through the years. Perhaps what I needed to hear. And you know----I think years ago I might have been ashamed. That I didn't "get it right." Today, I smile. Embrace all that is. Trust it all. So....I offer these new old words. And of course, this time I credit them properly, too. I bless them and send them with the hopes that they will reach you---like a cherry blossom on the breeze. And be planted. And who knows what a difference they will make in your life---and what next, beautiful words will be yours. Go for it. Trust it. Embrace it all. And always, always---look for the silver lining. Because, it will always be there. Always.


Ashes my burnt hut

but wonderful

the cherry 

blooming on the hill.





Fires Burning

The hills of our city are exploding in fire. The wind is gusting this way. And here's what I know. We are alive. In this moment. We have displaced friends here. We are prepared. No lives have been lost. Remarkable.

I just loaded my little lime green VW beetle with our belongings. All the photos---never made it into albums---made it into my car. And that wooden sculpture of grace and power. 

I just videotaped our home. Found the love for everything. Every moment. Every piece of history.

I just packed a little clay hut. The size of a matchbook. It was sent to us after we lost everything in a housefire in newlyweds. The little package arrived. With these words.

"Ashes my burnt hut, but I rejoice, for now I can see the sky." 

Ancient wisdom---Japanese??African?? I don't know. Here's what I do know. Those words helped. They brought us possibility. The ability to see joy in Everything. These words are with me today. In each moment. In each next right action. In the preparations. In the love. In this moment.

I do not know if our hut will burn. I do know that no matter what happens...I will see the sky. 



My Two Hands...My Hammock

One little girl who loved hammocks, swaying, floating.

Fifty years later.

One dream, born. Yes, I really want a hammock. 

Five hours searching online. There it was---my dream hammock. Oops, also $1000 dollars. So much for good taste!

One year passed.

One person in certification.

One piece of feedback...lay back now, trust that you are laying in a "hammock" of all the skills you need. Wise advise. 

One dream still unrealized.

One Saturday afternoon---I went online anew. The new me. The me who now knows how to live fully from my laser-focused intentionality of time and energy. The me who knows how to let my values dance and blend. The 57 year old me who now knows exactly what I desire. The me that takes action to make it so.

One beautiful Aruba hammock AND stand researched and purchased---for $156 and free shipping. There it was! Now we're talking! Good reviews, too! I could feel my engines revving. My curiosity rising. And something else. Anticipation!

One delivery at my doorstep! 

One hammock carried in pieces into my back yard---with my own two hands (box too heavy to do all at once---no problem!)

One Sunday afternoon.

I was ready. To assemble my hammock with my own two hands.

One 57 year old woman who had up until now called myself "technology challenged".  Who wouldn't have believed that I could do this. I looked at the pieces. The parts. The diagram. The nuts. The bolts. The wrench. And I said, "OK baby, let's try something new. Let's have a hammock assembly adventure----and see what happens!"

One hour later, there I was. Laying in the hammock of my dreams (of course its red and blue and green and yellow) in the hot Colorado sun, under dappled aspen leaves, with a long, cool glass of home-made iced tea on the little table at my side.

One good book in my hands. "Loving What Is" by Byron Katie. Boy, was I loving what is alright!

One dream. Realized.

One happy, swaying moment----celebrating my two adventurous beautiful body now at rest in my new hammock.

One identity shredded. I'm no longer "mechanically impaired." 

One new story. Lynn...the dream embracer, hammock stand builder, hammock swayer.

One deep, long, beautiful sigh.

p.s. If you have a dream in the back of your closet---in the back of your mind---buried under too much or "that's the way it is" or "it's too late now"----it's time! Dust it off---with your own two hands. With your own beating heart. Get creative. And begin to make it so! And if you need a coach along the way---you know precisely where to find me! I wish you the sway and the grace of a dream realized. Nothing less.