Turtle steps

The way to get anything done is a step at a time.  One little step.  Martha Beck calls them turtle steps.  I don't know about you, but I've been known to act like a rabbit.  Sprint like heck, and then get so pooped out that I abandon everything and nap for a week.  When I act like a turtle and take small steps on a regular basis, I get a lot more accomplished and it's amazing to look back and see what I completed! It's just like hiking the Appalachian Trail - it's five million steps and over 2000 miles--  but you can't think that way - you have to just keep walking a little every day.

Turtles keep coming to find me to remind me to take turtle steps.  And the most recent ones I've seen have also been submerged in muddy water - I wonder what that means?  Don't be afraid to get a little dirty?  Don't be afraid of murkiness?  Go to the spa?

About a week ago I was on a wordless walk with a dear friend and I took her to my favorite tree.  This was the tree where I saw my turtle about two months prior, but I really didn't expect to see her, as she had been sitting on the forest floor a good 30 feet from the tree last time.  Well, apparently my favorite tree might also be hers as well!  We arrived at the base of the tree, and there she was, completely submerged in a mossy puddle made by the tree roots.  We sat for quite a while and she finally moved, sticking her neck out.

I felt very honored to see this wild turtle again - I know they have small home ranges, but it was still mighty special.

Today I worked diligently, but with free time built in too (I've learned that my mind will go into complete and utter rebellion and give up on any system if there isn't some fun built into every day - like a quick dip in the neighborhood pool)  and this evening, who did we see in our garden but our own turtle who lives in the yard?  We rarely see her and there she was, drinking the air conditioning condensation water in our tiny horsetail-planted wetland.

I count these sightings as auspicious messages from the universe.  All is well.  And I'm enjoying life, one step at a time, and savoring as I go.

Buster wisdom: Sitting in the grass and the power of *and*

My head is positively swirling with ideas, to-dos, tasks, brainstorms - you name it.  And I am tired.  I just returned from an incredible coaching mastery retreat where I was supported, inspired, and filled up.  And now there's so much to do!  And I want to wave my wand and have it all done now. The actual doing is a different story, as I suddenly feel the overwhelming urge to nap... I spent the early morning today at the collision center dropping off my car and picking up a rental.  You may recall, when I was all zen about not worrying, that our car died.  And we bought a new one.  Not only new, but from the future!  A 2013!  And then a distracted driver backed into it while it was parked in front of our house last week.  This was not part of the plan.

So my wand waving waited. On the way home from the collision center, I stopped at the farmers' market and bought peaches, blueberries, strawberries, tomatoes, broccoli, squash, eggs and more.  I filled my bags with healthy local food.  My computer and my wand waving waited a little longer.

As I opened the gate I saw my best wisdom teacher, Buster, resting in the shady front yard.  I unpacked the food, then stepped barefoot into the lovely grass and joined him.  And breathed.  Because if I don't have time, on a beautiful sunny day, to sit in the grass for a few minutes, then something is really off.

This week I'm going to believe in the word "and".  I can work toward my goals *and* sit in the grass for a few minutes.  I can complete tasks *and* cut up strawberries.  I can drive to unexpected places like collision centers *and* enjoy the trip, rocking out to the 80's on satellite radio.  I can write *and* I can nap.  I can create *and* I can breathe.  Wow.  Buster knows.  We are so lucky.

What are some of your *and* statements for the week?

 

Surprise for Mothers' Day

I couldn't figure out why the brown thrasher was making so much noise- scolding and scolding! - and then I saw it, right at chest height, right next to the trail. No wonder she was worried!  What its is about a bird's nest that brings out the childlike wonder in us?  Those perfect little eggs nestled in that beautiful nest, created completely by instinct by the mother bird.  What a lovely surprise!

Messages from the animals

I went to the swamp on a sunny Friday morning, getting ready to host a wordless walk the next day. I decided to visit my favorite tree, a giant live oak maybe 50 feet off the trail - to get there you have to kind of bushwack through the palmettos, so once you curl up in the tree's giant roots and settle in, it's as if you're in your own primeval cozy secret spot- with the Spanish moss waving in the branches high above, and the rustling fronds of palmettos all around you. I sat quietly for a while, happy to have nothing to do but sit. I'll be honest - the past two months have felt like a pretty big whirlwind as I completed coach training, started a mastery coach class, went to the coach summit in Phoenix, turned my paperwork in and got tested and certified, took a trip on the Appalachian Trail - and in the middle of it all kept doing my regular coaching and tutoring work. My calendar had been looking a little crazy, and that's exactly what I promise freedom from! Hmmm. Time to walk the walk.

So there I was. Sitting under a giant tree, gazing into woods under the arched palmettos.

And I sent out a request for the animal who had a message for me to appear.

And I am not making this up. Within five seconds I saw her, about 20 feet away, stock still, and staring at me.

This was my view. Do you see her? It's hard to tell.  I'll circle her.

Still not sure?  Well, what I did was crawl about 15 feet closer to her, and I sat with her for a while- maybe 20 minutes or so.  Neither of us moved much, especially her.  She blinked and moved her head a little, but she didn't take a single step.  Here she is close up.

I didn't reach out to pick her up.  It seemed to me that we had an understanding and I didn't want to disturb her.  I think she might be a three-toed box turtle, And I'm not 100% sure it's a she - I would have needed to look at the shape of the bottom of her shell - the plastron- to see if it was flat or indented.  That her eyes are orange, not red, means she's a female I think, but I'm not super-sure. (Can you tell I was once a naturalist and a science teacher??)

Anyway, I needed her message.  Slow down. Clear that calendar so you can work on the projects you've been back-burnering.  Or to just to take care of you.  Rest.  Retreat.  All is well right now.  No need do rush headlong into the future.  Take small steps and you'll get there.  Or take no steps and just be present for a little while.  Breathe and be. Just for a while each day.  If you move too fast you'll miss everything.  You'll forget to savor.  You'll fail to enjoy the process.  Maybe there's some time needed to bask in some accomplishments - to take them in.

Right.  Thank you! What a timely reminder.

After a while I left her, quietly and gratefully, and had a lovely rest of the day. The spring woods couldn't be more beautiful. I know - this may be a complete coincidence.  Maybe it was just lucky.  But that's fine.  I'll take it.  I needed to be reminded, and I got the message.  Take it slow.  You'll get there.

Interested in more messages from the animals?  Check out What the Walrus Knows, a beautiful book about animal totems and the messages we can receive from them, by Sarah Seidelmann, a fellow coach and amazing wayfinder.  I'm all for animal wisdom for everyone!