Divine Timing

When I was a little girl, I remember hearing Jiminy Crickett sing the song,"When You Wish Upon A Star" in the movie Pinocchio.

Its lyrics tapped into what I eventually called "living with vision," letting our hearts be a compass to guide us towards our deepest dreams.

"When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires will come to you."

Often, when we look into our hearts and see our deepest wishes, we want them to happen immediately. But life doesn't always work that way. Life has a natural rhythm, and while our wishes and desires might not come to us as soon as we want them to, when we really open our hearts to them, they most often do become real in divine timing.

Like a bolt out of the blue.
Fate steps in and see you through.
When you wish upon a star
Your dreams come true.

This brings in the importance of faith. Faith is a very powerful force. It allows us to keep our heart open to our dreams even when we don't know exactly how or when our dreams will come to be. In this sense, faith is the guardian and keeper of our heartfelt dreams. And faith allows us to let go of the need to control timing, so that we may surrender into the path that diving timing carves out for us.

Faith gives us a spaciousness and a sense of grace, that allows us to be present in the moment, and see what unfolds. This allows us to take right action moment to moment and experience the gift of the journey as well as the gift of arriving at our goal.

Have you ever had the experience of leaving your house a few minutes late to go to a coffeeshop or a supermarket and running into an old friend you had not seen for a while when you arrived? Or have you walked in the door, having thought about someone, only to find a message from them in your e-mail or a text arriving as you open the door? This is divine timing in action. At times when this kind of synchronicity would happen, I would find myself asking, "so what would have happened if I had not left late?" or "did the fact that I was thinking of this person lead to their calling?"

Experiences like these remind us that we are all interconnected. Our thoughts, our feelings, our deepest desires are energy currents, and they communicate, even in ways we cannot grasp with our physical senses. If we can have faith in the universal currents that run through life overall, as well as our own lives, it is easier to embrace and be embraced by divine timing.

I have found that the more deeply I understood the process of living with vision: opening my heart to my deepest dreams and desires, finding strength in the faith that in divine time my vision would become real, and gracefully taking needed steps towards the vision as they become clear, the more peacefully I live.

Experiences of divine timing lead to an understanding that we will really be okay if we stay connected to our hearts and let go of control. It is a truly beautiful and inspiring experience to realize we can ride the energy currents of life, and things will really move forward in ways that matter to us."

The Thin Line Between Dreams and Reality

A grade school friend recently posted photos from our high school yearbook on Facebook. Under the photo of me at age 16 is a quote I wrote that in many ways has been the tagline of my life: "A thin line stands between dream and reality and only the heart knows the characteristics that correspond to either side." Isn't it amazing that we are who we are from the very beginning. Over time, the threads of our core identity are woven together in a magical web. There can be different chapters and different expressions, but the same underlying message.

The quote evolved into my signature song, written in my early 20's, which evolved into my first book, which was published on my 30th birthday. Learning the art of creating from the heart has involved two critical and inter-related skill sets: 1. developing the capacity tap into deep dreams and 2. breaking down dreams into a series of action steps, building a pathway to bring dreams into reality. Yet even more fundamentally, learning to hold the space between dream and reality, allowing for vision to become real, is a profound point of power.

I think I first became aware of the thin line that stands between dream and reality in a grammar school science class. We did an experiment "bending light" with a magnifying glass at just the right angle to burn a hole in a piece of white paper. It really felt like magic. Without discovering the "thin line,"in this case just the right position for the magnifying glass, nothing would happen on the paper. Yet, discovering the right position allowed a kind of alchemy to occur.

The creative process requires and invites this kind of alchemy. Attuning to deeper feelings, thoughts and intuition through meditation, journaling, movement and introspection allows dreams to germinate and be captured tangibly in images, feelings, and words. By revisiting an image, a feeling, a thought or words, we can bring our conscious energy to the dream or vision. Our conscious energy allows the dream or vision to evolve and become clearer. Increased clarity allows us to translate the dream or vision into actionable steps we can take. Taking action steps and evolving vision become an integrated feedback loop. Each step we take clarifies what comes next. What results from each step helps us refine our vision.

Learning to hold vision lightly and with a heartfelt commitment is another kind of thin line. Human beings are often scared of the unknown and the unseen. And making dreams real involves starting with the unseen and the unknown. If we are scared, we hold onto vision tightly. This tightness can leave no breathing room for a creative process to unfold. Faith is a critical ingredient in giving vision space to breathe and unfold.

When we are afraid, it is hard to have faith. Learning to sit with an open space, patiently, quietly and faithfully is a kind of emotional or spiritual "muscle building." Initially it might hurt. With practice, we become stronger and better able to gently hold vision faithfully.

Over the years, I have had many opportunities to practice working with the thin line between dreams and reality. As a songwriter, I sit in an open space and a state of receptivity, never knowing when inspiration will strike. When I am struck and a song starts to come through my creative channel, it is my work to then sit with it, listen to it, receive it, and go to the piano to capture it. Making notes about chords and lyrics, and recording an emerging melody help me birth a song. Sometimes it comes all at once. Sometimes it comes in fragments. Keeping my mind open to how it will come through and when keeps my creative process fertile.

When I paint, sometimes I have a clear image I want to make real...and other times I am called by particular colors, both on their own and in combination. Working with acrylics in a pouring medium includes opening to the magic of what the medium itself creates. There is a divine magic at work, and the end result is surprise.

Starting a new project, bringing people together to build community, writing an article or a book, or developing a personal growth workshop all have elements of working with this thin line. When to listen and when to speak, when to apply oneself and when to step back, when to ask outwardly and when to ask inwardly....there are fine lines between each of these dualities.

Becoming comfortable and familiar with polarities and the balanced middle ground is all part of this thin line dance. Right brain and body wisdom can be a fine conductor of the creative journey.

Bringing the Catatonic Chicken Back to Life: The Power of Compassionate, Heartfelt Presence

The ways professors choose to illustrate big concepts during college psychology classes can be rather dramatic. And in one of my big lecture freshman psychology classes, a demonstration made a lifelong impression on me. What I learned is NOT what the professor intended to teach me. However, what I learned went far beyond my mind, penetrating my heart and soul.

I think the concept the professor was trying to illustrate was "learned helplessness." For many years, I could not remember this because of the impact of the "demonstration." The professor began by bringing a young chicken into the classroom, and placed him on top of the marble slab at the front of the classroom, attaching an electrode to the chicken's head.

He then proceeded to zap the unsuspecting chicken with an electric current. The chicken started to shake all over. His eyes started to get really big. And before the chicken had a chance to acclimate to what was going on, the professor zapped him again and again until the chicken froze.

5 minutes went by and the chicken was still frozen. 10 minutes went by and the chicken was still frozen. The class ended and the chicken was still frozen. The class ended and I was still frozen. And everyone except me left the room. I sat in my chair feeling catatonic with tears streaming down my face. I was devastated that the professor had just zapped the chicken into a catatonic state. And I was also upset that the professor just left the chicken there frozen on the marble slab and left the room.

I started to ask myself what was going to happen to the chicken now? Was a janitor going to come along and just scoop him into the garbage? That did not feel right or fair. I began thinking about what it would take to bring the chicken back to life after the experiment. And this question became a key teaching point as I started giving workshops and keynote presentations around the country after my first book, LIVING WITH VISION: RECLAIMING THE POWER OF THE HEART was published.

Some of the answers people responded with included: take the electrode off of the chicken, put the chicken into a safe environment, perhaps with other chickens, zap the professor, and perhaps most commonly, hold the chicken. After the traumatic experience with the electrode, respectful, present compassionate touch was probably needed to let the chicken know that he was safe in the moment, and that the human present with him now was there to help and protect him. Likely the chicken would be pretty frightened of humans after his encounter with the professor!

Watching for non-verbal cues would also be important. If the chicken started to slightly blink his eye, or shake a little bit or make any kind of physical movement, it might be a sign of slightly unfreezing. It would certainly be a message from the chicken's body that deserved respectful witnessing, presence and emotional contact. One would need to be very very patient with the chicken. Establishing trust or starting to unfreeze would take time over time. And caring for the chicken's basic needs, including warmth, food and water, and comfort would be important should the chicken start to unfreeze.

As I looked at my own response to the experiment I realized that many of us feel like catatonic chickens internally, even if some part of us is walking around, working and conducting life as usual. And that the kind of attention and care needed to help the chicken was the very same kind of attention and care needed to help people who have experience trauma unfreeze and come back to life.

Unfortunately, we are more often to be educated to think like the professor, who used the unwitting chicken as an object for his scientific demonstration, with little attention to or care for the impact of his experiment on the chicken's well-being. And once something really traumatic happens, we often don't see what has happened at the levels that really matter, much like the professor. So, people who have been traumatized are left frozen--especially emotionally frozen and spiritually frozen, since emotional and spiritual well-being often miss our day to day radar.

Developing more awareness of emotional and spiritual experience would bring us a long way in recognizing the often too invisible impact of our actions. And this awareness is a necessary foundation for cultivating compassion and heartfelt presence.

We need to become more emotionally embodied and grow our compassionate presence both to prevent people from being traumatized into the "catatonic chicken" state, and to help those who have been traumatized in this way to come back to life.

Life's Fine, Fine Line

At the St Louis Cabaret Conference, one very rich element was hearing the songs my fellow singers chose to work on. I had heard the song "It's A Fine, Fine Line" from the musical Avenue Q once or twice. However, I had never really thought about it deeply, until my fellow singer, Meri Ziev, from Florida worked on it during our coaching sessions at the Cabaret Conference.

The lyrics to the first verse are:

"There's a fine, fine line between a lover and a friend. There's a fine, fine line between reality and pretend. And you never know til you reach the top if it was worth the uphill climb. There's a fine, fine line between love and a waste of time."

So much of life is defined by fine, fine lines. Love. Major life decisions. Even life itself. I remember being profoundly aware of this as a child. And I kept writing about it in poetry, songs and eventually my first book.

When I was 16, I wrote some short pieces of verse to accompany photographs in the high school yearbook. "A thin line stands between dream and reality. And only the heart knows the characteristics that correspond to either side," was one of them.

I became aware of how many dimensions of life were literally a matter of being on one side of a very fine line or another. I learned that even when a woman was in her prime fertile time, there is only a 20% chance of conception taking place. One synchronicity in life--being at the right place at the right time or the wrong place at the wrong time--can be the difference between life and death. One of my college roommates was originally scheduled to be on the plane that crashed in Chicago that year. But last minute circumstances prevented her from making the plane.

Sometimes we are responsible for which side of that fine line we land on through our choices. When something is challenging, do it give it one more try or give up? When we have a dream, do we start to define and take steps in that direction or do we stay where we are? Many times, a divine force, a higher power greater than us, has a hand in which side of the fine line we find ourselves on.

As a teenager who loved the Red Sox, how did I know that a security guard who saw me often at the games would let me know there was a job opportunity to work there? Or even more special in the divine choreography that led me to work at Fenway Park, that the concession company needed a female employee unrelated to anyone already working there at the moment I walked in the office to apply for the job?

When life's synchronicities open doors for me or even present me with simple poignant moments where I get to be a magical stranger in a simple way, like helping a stranger, my heart is touched and grateful. Learning to be open to synchronicities, recognizing a moment of opportunity when consciously working towards a vision, or having the courage to say "yes" or "no" to a new direction ask us to dance with life's fine, fine lines.

And often we never know the final outcome until after we have made the choice. "You never know til you reach the top if it was worth the uphill climb." Listening to our hearts and guts, and having them help us discern which steps to take or not as we face the fine, fine line, can at least help us find a true path. Sometimes it is easy. Sometimes it is hard. Sometimes it is life changing. Other times it is of smaller proportion. Yet, over time, I have come to cherish those fine, fine lines, that thin line that stands between dream and reality. And I have have come to realize that the very act of facing and walking across those lines is at the heart of being fully alive.

Being A Lighthouse

As I have been leading workshops on the Power of Voice, a helpful image that I've found myself using frequently is that of the lighthouse. Voice is more than the ability to speak or sing. Voice is actually a sense of who we are at the deepest level: spirit, heart and soul.

Finding one's voice is another way of saying, discovering and knowing who you really are. As you connect inside with your heart, soul and deepest knowing, your sense of self will seek forms of expression. And the pathways of expression, be they speaking, singing, drawing, dancing, writing, inventing....or anything else...are your unique gifts or your unique frequency that you project out into the world.

In this way, as we become clearer about who we are, and can sense the frequency we resonate on, we become a lighthouse, with a unique beam of light to cast out into the world. If we let our light shine through our words, deeds, actions and being, we will naturally attract people, experiences and opportunities that are truly meant for us. Shining our unique light into life's larger harbor allows those "boats" who are seeking this frequency of shelter, protection or light to find us. If we don't know who we are, we can't shine our light. And if we are afraid to shine our light, then the people, experiences and opportunities we are meant to meet and have cannot find us.

To be able to connect with our unique light takes courage, and often skillful facilitation. It also takes patience and trust. Once we have found it and connected to it, life can feel more fulfilling and empowering. Trusting that we will meet who we are meant to meet and that our light is needed by others who seek to find us is an important part of developing the faith to walk a spiritual path in life.

Some people worry that if they shine their light, others will turn away. There is some truth to this concern. However, it is actually a liberating truth. Not everyone WILL resonate with who you are or need to connect with you. And that is okay. The more we live as lighthouses in the world, the more places of harbor will be available. And then trusting that we will be able to give harbor or shelter to those who need our frequency of light...and those who need another frequency of light will be able to find their safe harbor where it is meant to be found.

Dancing With Life: I Hope You'll Dance

"I hope you never lose your sense of wonder. You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger. May you never take one single breath for granted. God forbid love ever leave you empty handed. I hope you feel small when you stand beside the ocean. Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens. Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance. And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance. I hope you dance."

--Lee Ann Womack

As a little girl, I was always moved to dance. When my family went on vacation to the Cape, if we drove by a "sock hop," I would always ask my parents to pull over so I could go inside. My parents told me I was a little girl, and that I would not be allowed inside. But I asked and asked and asked every single time we passed a "sock hop" sign for months on end. And one day, perhaps realizing I just was not going to stop asking, they let me go inside. Child or not, I jumped right in and danced. And I connected with a very deep impulse in me that has always moved me, carried me and expressed me.

I learned that dance is really a wonderful metaphor for life. And while it was a sad occasion, the funeral of a teenage boy from the Boys to Men program's father's sudden and unexpected death, that reconnected me with Lee Ann Womack's poignant song, "I Hope You Dance," I am grateful to have her words reintroduced to my heart and mind. When given the choice to sit it out or dance, I always DANCE.

Dance is like love: each moment invites you to a constant opening, to be present, to use all of your senses, to let yourself move with what moves you. Dance, like love, invites you to let go of self-judgment, judgment of others and other inhibitions, and let yourself be moved from the inside out. Dance, like love, is, in the words of Kim Anami, "a constant choice to be loving, to be kind, generous and to take the high road in everything. To see the best in those around you." And to let your spirit guide your every move.

To dance with life is to be both receptive and co-creative. By being open and receptive to all of life's currents, and to what stirs your own heart and soul, allows you to not only tap your own internal creative well, but to join forces collaboratively with other people, spirit and the flow of life moment to moment and over time. Dancing with life allows you to fully embrace possibility, and opportunity. Dancing with life allows you to integrate vision and action.

In life, just like on the dance floor, there are many moods and tempos and beats. And some are slow. Others are fast. Some are happy. Some are sad. But it is the fullness and wholeness and variety and authenticity that brings the richness of the experience home. To be fully alive, we feel everything--dark and light. Our culture tends to value "positive" experiences and devalue or even reject what gets labelled as "negative" experiences. Realistically, some experiences feel better than others. But they are all essential, valuable and life enriching experiences. Some of us prefer a Latin beat. Others like hip hop. Or rock and roll. Or jazz. Or R&B. All genres are, as Stevie Wonder so aptly wrote, "Songs in the key of life."

The price of sitting out is high. Lee Ann Womack says, "Never settle for the path of least resistance. Living might mean takin' chances but they are worth takin'. Lovin' might be a mistake but it's worth makin,' Don't let some hell bent heart leave you bitter, When you come close to selling' out reconsider." Dancing with life may not always be easy. In fact, sometimes it might be just plain hard or painful. Yet, if we can be present with hard and painful, we also have the capacity to be present will easy, and joyful. An open heart feels all there is to feel. And what more complete experience is there than to fully dance!!!

Making Our Dreams Come True

"A thin line stands between dream and reality. And only the heart knows the characteristics that correspond to either side." --Linda Marks, age 16 It seems my entire life has been about living with vision and living from the heart. As a child, I wrote poems about these two topics. They were in separately interrelated. When I was 20, I wrote a song called "When Dreams Suffer," which became my signature song. And the message of this song was at the heart of my first book, Living With Vision: Reclaiming the Power of the Heart, which came out in 1988.

We all have dreams. What is often the hard part is turning dreams into reality. What can we do to make our dreams come true?

Some of the messages in "When Dreams Suffer" are:

1. When dreams suffer, there must be fear in our way.

Believing in our dreams is a magical thing. If we keep putting positive, heartful, visionary energy into our dreams, and taking actions steps one by one, we are unstoppable. When we are afraid, we freeze, stop, give up and sometimes even crumble. Finding ways to find safety, support, rooting and faith are critical to making our dreams real.

2. We need to learn to both hold on to our dreams, yet let go.

If we hold on to our dreams too tightly, we can suffocate the life blood out of them. We remove the breathing room that allows life's energies to move and flow. On the other hand, if we don't hold fast to our dreams, they can die, as a beautiful Langston Hughes poem notes. We need to hold them in our hearts, yet trust that God will be our co-pilot.

3. We must both give space, and believe, even while nothing supports our beliefs.

Perhaps this is another way to talk about having faith. Faith is a kind of heartfelt, spiritually rooted sense of belief. Yet, it also acknowledges that we do not create in a vacuum. There is a powerful creative force in the universe that gives life in many ways, including to our dreams. Having faith in that creative force is critical.

4. We can't throw our dreams away. Instead, they can be our life guidance system.

Without our dreams, our life will be can "a barren field frozen with snow," to return to Langston Hughes' poem. Our dreams enliven our days and our entire lives. Yet when we don't the steps to take to make our dreams real, or when it seems like our dreams are not manifesting soon enough, it is far too easy to abandon ship. Learning how to frame our dreams as our life guidance system makes it easier to stay with them and follow them over time.

Another important principal in bringing our dreams to life is to take immediate action. If you feel inspired, capture the energy of the moment. Take even a small action step. Every step we take moves our dreams forward. When we wait, tell ourselves we can do it later or even worse, procrastinate, we deflate the energy and fail to take advantage of the power of inspired moments. Telling someone else about your dream and inviting them to team with you are two other ways to ground your dreams. I learned early on that when another person co-held a dream with me and/or partnered with me to work on a dream, the path was easier, more unexpected doors opened, and the dream took flight much more effortlessly and faster than when I tried to do it all alone. Taking action and involving others are two ways of committing to our dreams. Commitment moves our energy forward and opens up all kinds of divine energy to support us in realizing our goals. When we fear commitment, we diffuse the very things we desire that commitment can bring.

Learning to make our dreams real is like learning dance steps. We need to get a sense of the rhythm. We need to get used to the music. We need to gain a sense of the dance floor. We need to get our footing, so we know how it feels. In many ways, we use all our senses, even if we focus on our hands or feet to take action. And the heart is the ultimate compass, at the center of the entire process.