Already There

Sabine:

That was me this morning, when I had missed my train by only 20 seconds! Can you believe it. And that after I got up earlier then I have been for months… Therefore the frown… Hope you ladies enjoy your weekend.

Lia:

Yes, this is a photo that definitely sums up the sentiment. I would be so irritated! And you’ve captured it. Love the orange though – you have a nice bright travel outfit!

Adrienne:

ahahhaaha!!! That’s awesome. I love your selfies! Hilarious!!!

I just found this for you. When I read it, it made me think of your running pic last night, and then it clicked in for me in my own life. I have definitely arrived, and yet I am always creating more. I remember a long time ago on a trip up the Icefields Parkway in Alberta, learning to ski tour, we pulled over to the side because of a really beautiful drainage creek coming down. We spun the car around to be right in it. It was a river of smooth stones coming straight to the road through the conifers, and then the water coming down through them. It was magical. When we got out the sound of the water was oh so incredible. Imagine it drowning out every other sound, a waterfall. The water was clear and ice cold, pooling in some spots around the edges, and thundering in a channel down the middle.

We spent an hour or so there. It was Spring in the Rocky Mountains – crisp and sunny. There is still snow up high, the sky is actual azure, and the melting down low smells absolutely divine. For me nothing compares to the smell of Cedar in the Spring. My bones sink right into it; it sinks right into my bones; there is no space between. My friend and I chatted and just really enjoyed it – everything, all of it. It was that spectacular time in my life where all of life was indeed the adventure and not the destination. I have clear memories of knowing I could do anything I wanted, and honestly not really worried about how long it took, or who approved. I also have this really clear and distinct memory – that I think of often – about that magical creek drainage. I remember climbing higher and higher on the rocks. I’d pause, and settle into the beauty, and then I’d look up and see more. I would see some spot where the water was leaping off a rock and into one of the pools, and it would be even more beautiful than the pool right in front of me already. I was soaked up to my elbows from rock collecting, cargo-pant-pockets full of the good ones.

It was total bliss. Even now, almost a full 20 years later, I remember recognising that day, that my achilles heel would definitely be the belief that something up ahead was more beautiful than where I already am. I remember making a clear and conscious acknowledgement of that, and vowing to remember it always. I also remember thinking “why stop here”. It was a delicious moment. I had it all, and in a few metres I could have even more of it. I remember looking back at my friend, thinking I had made some revolutionary discovery in my own mind, and that no one in the world would ever get it, but that I got it; I knew the meaning of life.

When I looked back to tell him this, he met me because he was already there. He already got it, and better, it satisfied him. Whatever that “it” is – life, the rocks, the water, the smell, the sound, the companionship, the love, the ability we have to share that with each other, life returned. Exchanged.

To this day – and especially now (kind of) knowing what I know about people and consciousness – I don’t know if that was a conscious response on his part, or that he and I met in that spot in human awareness that is “when the student is ready, the teacher will appear.” He certainly appeared. In that instant, I knew the meaning of my own life – but only of course in hindsight. He was a beautiful teacher, and perhaps the most relevant also – not sure how language that. He literally took me to the biggest places I will ever be in the world. He provided the means, the structure, and most important, the safety. Hmmm… he also provided the loving non-judgement if I wigged out, that too. Maybe more on that someday, but lying in the snow crying and having a temper tantrum after bruising both my palms because I couldn’t get my ski boots into ski mode. Well, that’s another story that ends with the fact that I can ski in walk mode, and it is possible for another human being to witness me in my terror and anger that I can’t get it right. He will take his gloves off, and his hands will be warm on my face. He will stand there quietly with me until I know I can, because I can.

He taught me the practical, bona fide, in my body, in the present moment, balance between my mind wanting and dreaming up more, and my body engaging in the joy of that. Those two human extremes meet in the heart, and life explodes and suddenly becomes limitless. He taught me how to dream it, plan it, then live it – like live it, actually. I LOVE remembering this. I love getting it, that of late I have been living a to-do list, rather than enjoying the experience.

This is the a – ha I was reaching for with this week’s discussion. This is the summit. Right here.

These moments, Sabine. Thank you for your running selfie yesterday. I have come through my own fury to get where I am now also. When I saw that picture, knowing you and what you have achieved – and what more you will achieve – I recognised that there is no stopping point. There is no end-goal when where I am is exactly beautiful. Every moment in my life is – and has been – the creek drainage moment in various forms. It can never be enough; I am up to my elbows in life-spectacular; my safety net is right there with me. Life knows me better than I know myself.

To be honest, THIS is what you, by sharing YOUR genius and your experience so open-heartedly, in two languages, no less!… THIS is what you provide to THIS kind of woman. You are the trail blazer’s trail blazer. You are the teacher that arrives when the student is ready.

Here’s the link to the article so you can get it from somewhere outside our system here:

http://sethgodin.typepad.com/seths_blog/2017/07/youve-arrived.html

You are already doing what current culture is trying to teach. Woman, you are ahead of the curve.

Have a fabulous trip!