How would you ever know what life was capable of if you were always in control of it?

How would you ever know what life was capable of if you were always in control of it?

Where does the desire to control one’s experience come from?

These were the questions I was left with, as I concluded my morning walk.

As I walked into my apartment, I couldn’t help, but stop and think about my own relationship with wanting to control the outcome of any experience.

“Why do I want to control my experience? What is the motivation behind this desire?” 

As some of you may know, I will be leaving for a year-long trip around the world in the upcoming months (I’ll be posting the itinerary before I leave, so we can connect in-person).

Part of this experience includes finding a tenant to reside in my apartment for the remainder of the lease.

So, over the past few weeks, I’ve been posting ads relentlessly, one after another, advertising the place (enough ads that even Facebook Marketplace had to intervene by temporarily blocking my ability to post and say, “Hold up! No need to post 50 ads per day. You’ve done enough. Let the experience unfold!”)

This experience, as well as listening to the “Surrender Experiment” helped me slow down and realize what I was doing.

I was trying to control the outcome of the experience.

Before I proceed, I believe it is important to note the following: the concept of “control” has a purpose.

In my case, controlling how much energy I put toward any given objective is important.

I don’t believe things just happen without any set intention or energy exchange (or maybe they do … How do I know? What about the sequence of events do I think I control?)

Over the past few days, I challenged myself to let things unfold on their own.

And the beauty of this experience began to emerge. 

This morning, I found myself responding to numerous messages from possible tenants.

Some wanted to lease immediately.

The point of my message is not to discourage you from taking action in life.

Rather, let the outcome come, and at a time that it’s supposed to happen (take my words with a grain of salt, as I am simply learning from this experience just like you are).

How aware are you of your inner voice?

“How aware are you of your inner voice? Do you identify with it? If so, how?”

This morning, I started listening to Michael Singer’s, “Surrender Experiment” as the topic of the inner voice was brought up.

“How aware am I of my inner voice?” I thought to myself.

The first moment of awareness that popped into my head was from five years ago.

I remember it as if it happened yesterday.

I was sitting under one of those huge oak trees in Newark DE, surrounded by freshly cut green grass, empty notebook to my right, a handful of pencils to my left, feet crossed in a meditative position.

Preparing myself, mentally, for the best possible outcome.

It was Day 1 of meditating, at least on a consistent basis, so I wanted it to be perfect 😂

I remember sitting there, eyes closed, observing my inner voice speak at a rate of one thousand words per minute.

“Could all of these people passing be quiet?”

“Why is she judging others?”

“What kind of bird was that?”

One thought after another flashed in front of me.

I kept sitting there.

Simply observing all of the thoughts inside me, as well as the chatter of my inner voice.

It was one of the first moments, to my awareness, where I was able to fully observe the space between self and inner voice.

For years, I identified with what the inner voice was telling me to see.

Whether it was thoughts about myself or those surrounding me.

“You’re stupid.”

“You’re smart.”

“You’re not good enough.”

“Look at what she’s wearing.”

Thoughts that might have carried some grain of truth with them, but not the ultimate truth.

Not the truth that my inner self identified with.

That is exactly what this meditation helped me see differently.

The perspective of my inner voice.

The opportunity not to identify and vocalize everything I was hearing inside of me.

It felt liberating.

It was as if I discovered fire for the first time.

My first instinct was to share it with everyone.

But, as I finished the practice I chose to do something different.

I chose to keep what I experienced to myself and only share with those who were curious in learning about what I went through.

This space became sacred.

I wanted to preserve the inner peace, inner quiet such space created.

Today, I’m grateful for Michael Singer’s book, “Surrender Experiment” and the memory it brought up.

How aware are you of your inner voice? What is it telling you about your experience on this planet?

“Is he friendly?”

“Is he friendly?”

This morning, as Kaleb and I were going on our morning stroll, I thought of this question that I’m asked often when approaching other dogs.

As I was reflecting upon it, I couldn’t help but acknowledge the difficulty of this question. 

Although, in most situations when asked, I can confidently respond with, “Yes, he is” based on yesterday’s experiences.

The reality of the matter is I don’t know for certain how he’ll react today. On top of which, I don’t know how I’ll react if the fight breaks out...LOL.

What if he woke up on the wrong side of the bed?

Considering that happens to me, I’m assuming it has got to happen to him as well.

What if the other dog’s frequency doesn’t align with his ?

It’s not like I can pull out one of my on the go Dr. Seuss books and teach him the importance of making friends.

Plus, I’ve tried reading to him out loud before, but he doesn't seem to respond to any words other than “walk” or “food”  

“What contributes toward Kaleb being friendly with others?” I asked myself.

The first thing that came to mind was exposure.

Exposure to all dogs, the friendly and the not so friendly.

In fact, there are numerous times before meeting another dog, when I don’t try to differentiate.

I challenge my own assumptions of how I think the meeting is going to go.

Rather, I create the opportunity for them to meet anyway. 

What better way to help another become aware of something than to help them recognize the behavior in the moment?

How do you create learning opportunities for others?

I challenge you, next time you’re taking your pet for a walk and you see another pet across the street walking toward you, ask yourself, “What can I learn about my pet from this encounter? What can I learn about myself from their interaction?”

As you think about the concept of “being friendly”, what do you think contributes to it?

How do you respond to your circumstances?

“Some obstacles are avoidable, others aren’t”.

This morning, as Kaleb and I were going on our stroll around the city, I kept running into spider webs hanging from the trees.

This scene happens often, especially after a rainstorm.

Well, this morning was no exception.

As Kaleb was walking ahead of me, enjoying the different smells, finding areas to conquer, I was busy trying to avoid the spider webs hanging from the top of the trees. Each web had a worm hanging from it, which made it easier to locate.

However, even with identifying markers such as worms or loose leaves hanging from the webs, some were still difficult to locate.

Not all were hanging directly down without any movement.

Depending on where we were, wind played a factor.

As we were walking near the highway, the wind from passing cars would swing the webs back and forth, making it very difficult to avoid.

Reminded me of a scene from “Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story,” where the coach explains from his wheelchair the five D's of dodgeball: “Dodge, Duck, Dip, Dive and Dodge.”

Well, I was doing exactly that, with the exception of diving across the sidewalks 😂

As I got closer to home and was able to walk on the road, away from the trees with spider webs, I began to think about the concept of obstacles and how some truly were unavoidable.

No matter how much I wanted to control my walking experience with Kaleb, I still kept running into spider webs.

“What could I control then?” I asked myself internally.

“How I respond to the circumstances.”

I could have easily due to the discomfort of being covered in spider webs and worms crawling all over my shirt, let the circumstances impact my attitude for the rest of the day.

Instead, I chose to look at it all as a learning experience.

An opportunity to recognize that I have a choice in how I proceed with the rest of the day despite the early form of adversity.

How do you respond to your circumstances?

How resilient are you?

“How resilient are you?”

Yesterday, as Casey Berman, Scott Mason and I were having a series of discussions during, “Survive to Thrive: Attitude of Gratitude,” this question came to mind.

As I sat there at my kitchen table, eyes glued to the computer screen, closely listening to Casey and Scott share their perspectives, feeling as if I’m in the same room as all of them, yet being thousands of miles apart, I couldn’t help but think about my own experience.

“How resilient am I?”

I immediately thought of the time when I was hiking the Grand Canyon.

The hike that lasted a total of 6 hours, yet felt like a lifetime due to the difficulty of it.

On my way up to the top from the Plateau Point, there were points throughout the hike when my body wanted to give up.

I don’t blame it considering that I was hiking 3 miles horizontally and 1 mile vertically, as the conclusion to the 12 mile day 😂

If you haven’t hiked the Grand Canyon, think of it as walking on a treadmill, on the highest possible incline for 3 hours.

As I continued to go up the trail, stopping here and there, resting on fallen rocks along the side, enjoying the last drops of water or the last clementine, I kept repeating one message, “One more step ... mind over body.”

I’d pick a point ahead of me, typically a turn, beyond which I couldn’t see the trail, and repeat, “one more step ... mind over body.”

Could I have given up?

Absolutely.

Did my body want to give up due to what was the most intense hike I’ve ever put it through?

💯

The difference was, I kept going.

I kept believing in the fact that by continuing to take that one more step, I’d eventually get to where it is that I’m going.

This hike helped me reaffirm how resilient I truly am.

As you think about your life, I’m curious to hear from you, “How resilient are you?”

Why do you choose to document your experience? What impact would you like your life to make?

“Why do you want to document your experience?”

Yesterday, I was asked this question by a friend of mine, Richard Marks.

I sat there, in complete silence, and was reminded of my late grandfather.

I was in 10th grade, when my U.S. History teacher had assigned a project.

The project was to interview an individual who had been a part of a world changing event.

I immediately thought of my grandfather, Walt Lougheed.

On my way home, I started to think of questions I’d ask him, as well as some of the logistics for how to capture our conversation.

Days later, I conducted the interview and presented it in front of my class.

However, as I think about the experience I shared with him, I believe that the ultimate lesson or goal was not the grade I received for it.

It was the importance of documenting someone else’s journey.

Creating an opportunity for a part of them to live beyond their years.

As I think about my grandfather today, I am fortunate to have this ONE recording of him.

As I playback the recording, I can still hear the wisdom in the vibration of his voice, the courage it took to share his truth.

In my grandfather’s case, it is the only recording I have of him.

I can’t say the same about many other people that have passed away.

I choose to document whether it’s via writing, podcasting or speaking, because I want future generations to get to know the amazing people that live on this planet.

The ways that people view life compared to how they might view life 50 years from today.

I want to capture what I believe to be an important element of being alive.

One’s connection to others, as well as one’s connection to self.

“Why do you choose to document your experience? What impact would you like your life to make?”

What were the things you used to do to avoid speaking in public?

“I used to be terrified of speaking in public.”

The other day, as I was driving by Applebee’s, I was reminded of the times when my family and I used to go there for dinner.

However, it wasn’t the dinner itself that I remembered, rather what I used to do to avoid speaking in public or placing my order.

This didn’t happen every time, but often enough that it stuck around in the back of my head to this day.

I remember the drive to the restaurant.

The whole way there, I’d be practicing how I’d respond to the server.

One voice in my head would ask, “What would you like today?”

The other voice would respond, “I’d like chicken fingers and fries, please.”

I’d repeat this scenario over and over again until we had reached our destination.

Then, the fear would set in.

All of the practice went straight out the window.

The fear was so real that instead of sticking to the plan and repeating what I had practiced on the way there, I’d shift my focus to Plan B.

Find a way to not have to place the order.

Here’s how it all took place.

As the host would help us find our table, I would sit down for a brief minute, look around, try to spot who would be serving us.

As I saw the server make his or her way toward us, I’d make a run for the bathroom.

But, before leaving the table, I’d tell my parents my exact order just in case I was “still in the bathroom” when the server came by to take the orders.

I would stay in the bathroom for at least 10 minutes, hoping that the order already took place.

Most times, as I returned back, the order was already placed.

Other times, I had to face the fear and place the order myself.

In fact, the more I think about it now, the reason why I chose chicken fingers and fries was because it was easy and quick to say.

Unlike some of the other items on the menu such as, “Grilled salmon with mashed potatoes and a side salad”.

The last thing I wanted to do was prolong this experience.

I wanted it to be as quick and painless as possible.

As you think about your own experience, “What were the things you used to do to avoid speaking in public?”

"Sometimes taking a step forward is taking a step backwards"

“Sometimes taking a step forward is taking a step backwards.”

The other day, as I was having a conversation with Tildet Varon, this thought came to mind.

As she shared her own experience with this topic, in particular when she chose to revisit a certain pain point in order to move forward within her healing journey, I started thinking about my own experience.

I asked myself, “When was the last time I had to take a step backwards, yet still continued to progress forward?”

I immediately thought of the relationship with my birth Mom.

In particular, the days, when I chose to forgive her and accept her role for what it was. As I shared before in other articles, it was challenging for me to revisit the past.

There were many layers that I had to work through in order to see her like I do today.

I remember starting with acknowledging the situations as I saw them, then breaking down how the society wanted me to see her, followed by asking myself internally how I’d like to see her without the societal expectations.

I’m sure there were multiple other steps in between, but you get the point.

It was at this point, I realized that sometimes taking a step forward is taking a step backward.

Revisiting the pain in order to step into the healing.

As you think about your own journey, “When have you had to take a step backward in order to take a step forward?”