Happy Thanksgiving?

by admin on October 14th, 2010

Hello world!

by admin on August 24th, 2010

Welcome to WordPress. This is your first post. Edit or delete it, then start blogging!

Manana …

by admin on July 8th, 2010

Procrastination gets a bad name.

We often feel terribly guilty about putting things off, about not taking action on things that are hanging over our heads. This creates a viscious circle of guilt, procrastination, a feeling of being overwhelmed, more guilt, more procrastination, etc. as we feel less and less capable of getting up and sorting through the rising tide of obligation.

Whew! But guilt is no use in dealing with procrastination. The first thing to bear in mind is how utterly normal it is to want to put difficult issues on the long finger. We all do it, far more than we’d care to admit. It’s only human. (I mean that in more ways than one. Have you ever seen an animal put things off? They want what they want when they want it and they take action NOW to get what they want. We could learn a lot from a terrier!)

However, although there is nothing to be gained by feeling guilty about putting things off, there is also precious little to be gained by doing so. Procrastination is, in many cases, a feeling of wanting to be doing something else, a fervent wish that the thing looming in front of you would just go away.

But it doesn’t, does it?

Delaying the inevitable inevitably makes it worse. And your imagination is your own worst enemy. The vast majority of the time, the thing we dread doing is no where near as awful as we imagined it to be. This is because of our enormous capacity to imagine the worst, and scare the bejeesus out of ourselves. And think about this: imagining the worst takes time. In fact, it usually takes up more time than you’d spend just doing the thing in the first place.

I hate getting into cold water. But I love to swim, and I know how quickly my body adjusts to cold once I get moving. But often when I find myself at the edge of a lake or the ocean, about to go for what I know will be an exhilarating swim, I freeze. I tell myself that the sun will warm me more if I wait a couple of minutes. Or I feel a breeze and want to just wait for it to pass … anything to avoid that plunge, which I know from experience will not be nearly as traumatic as I am building it up to be. But I wait. And wait. And wait.

What am I waiting for? For circumstances to change? For the temperature of the water to miraculously rise? Silly, isn’t it? So I came up with this little trick. I take a deep breath and count to five. I won’t allow myself to stay out of the water past the count of five. It’s an arbitrary but absolute rule. One. Two. Three. Deep breath. Four. One last deep breath … OMG I can’t believe I’m doing this … Five! In I plunge.

And I never regret it! This allows me my silly few seconds of procrastination (I’m human, after all), but then breaks that pattern and sets me free of the cycle.

Try it yourself.

The next time you face something odious that you must do – whether it’s making a difficult apology, cold-calling a prospect or just doing the washing up – take a deep breath, count to five, and then (Nike got it right) JUST DO IT!

You may be surprised at how exhilarating it can be.

Listen Up!

by admin on June 29th, 2010

What if you could change your relationships for the better, instantly?

What if people who used to seem tiresome to you suddenly became interesting?

What if could develop a source of knowledge and insight that is more relevant and useful than books or newspapers?

You have all the tools you need to make all this come true.

There’s one on either side of your head: your ears.

More

Freedom from Fear

by admin on June 8th, 2010

The greatest barrier to happiness in the world today is … fear.

Fear keeps us from living our lives fully; it locks us behind doors, too frightened to take chances, so afraid of losing what we covet that we can barely move at all.

Fear creeps into our lives in so many ways. We fear death, so we are afraid of living. We fear rejection so we are afraid of relationships. We fear failure so we hide from success.

Fear makes it impossible to enjoy what we have, to appreciate life, because we are afraid that our happiness, our successes, our possessions can be taken away from us. We can’t live in the present because the possible horrors of an imagined future paralyse us … with fear. But, what can we do about it? More

What are Friends For?

by admin on June 8th, 2010

I have this friend. She’s a truly lovely person, but she seems to always get in touch when she needs something. Advice, usually, or a shoulder to cry on, or perhaps a helping hand. I hasten to say that she is not a ‘user,’ but rather someone who has not had the best of luck in life, despite her big heart, charming temperment and brilliant mind.

But she is continuously apologising for ‘taking advantage.’ Recently she called me, in tears, not to ask for help, but to tell me that she felt awful for being such a burden to me, always ‘dumping her problems in my lap.’ I felt bad for her, but nothing I said about it being no bother, or that I was happy to help seemed to get through. She told me she hated herself for being so ‘needy.’

That’s when I told her a story.

I was having a day from hell. One thing after another was going wrong. People I had thought I could count on let me down. My car and computer picked the same day to go on the fritz, and by the time I opened my refrigerator to make dinner and found it as empty as a cave, I really was at the end of my rope.

At that moment my friend called.

She was in a crisis in her relationship – trying to interpret signals that felt, to her, mixed and unclear.

Boy, that’s just what I needed, right?

Well, yes.

Turns out, it was exactly what I needed. Because as soon as I heard my friend’s voice, my own problems drifted into the background, as I sat down, poured myself a cup of tea, and began a calm and reasoned discussion about her relationship. In a short while, her voice calmed and she took on that lovely confident tone of someone who knew exactly what to do next and was eager to get started.

As we said goodbye, she asked me how I was doing – was I having a good day? I said I was, and at that moment it became true.

Because I truly love helping my friend. I told her that I know she will always take ‘I’m too busy’ for an answer; she’ll never take advantage, never ‘use’ me. But in helping her, I am also helping myself. Nothing feels better to me than helping someone through an issue they feel incapable of coping with. A friend in need really is a friend indeed, because friendship is about smoothing over the rough spots in life.

Some people would say that our relationship is one-sided. But we’re each getting something valuable from the relationship. More importantly, no one is keeping score. Relationships based on favours – regularly tallied and always repaid in kind – aren’t friendships at all. They are business arrangements. There are definitely two sides to our relationship, and who is to say which one of us is getting more out of it?

After all. What are friends for?

The Coolest Music

by Sheila on January 15th, 2010

The recent hard winter was a rough challenge for a lot of us: frozen pipes, fender-benders, chapped lips and freezing rain. But, out walking in the snow the other day, I noticed something else about the icy weather: music.

There’s a different sound in the air when the ground is covered with snow. It’s quieter, for one thing. Fewer people are moving about, fewer cars on the road.

On the other hand, the sounds that are there seem to fill the air. If you make yourself really still, you can hear so many sounds you don’t normally notice:

• The crunch and squelch of your own footsteps, and the crack of ice beneath your feet
• The whooshing wing beats of crows (or maybe a hungry heron) passing overhead in the still air
• The drip and tinkling of water droplets melting at the ends of twigs and falling onto icy branches below
• The thrilling flush of a rabbit (or a fox? or both?) working its way through a hedge
• The tickle and scrape of robins bopping through thickets
• The heart-stopping flutter of a pheasant, startled into flight
• The sound of your own, visible breath condensing in the frigid air

And if you listen really carefully, you’ll begin to notice something amazing: a definite rhythm to the sounds around you. It’s as if some mighty conductor were orchestrating the sounds to build a private little symphony just for you.

And something else. You’ll suddenly notice, despite the sub-zero temperature, you’re not the least bit cold.

It’s the coolest music you’ll ever hear.

With warmth!

Sheila

Happy New You

by Sheila on January 4th, 2010

‘Happy New Year!’

It’s a great expression, isn’t it? And a great feeling – a New Year is a kind of rebirth, a time to put the past behind us and concentrate on starting fresh. It’s a clean slate, a blank screen, an open opportunity get things right this time!

I think part of the reason we celebrate New Year’s is because of our tendency, most of the time, to live too much in the past – dwelling on past mistakes or the misfortunes that have befallen us. This focus on the past can hinder action because we become fearful. We may be afraid of repeating errors or of bad things coming to pass.

But every December 31st we let go of all that. We pop a champagne cork and throw confetti and declare that this is going to be ‘our year!’

I think that’s great. But I know that enthusiasm for the present usually fades,  and we begin to drift into the routines of the past. It’s human nature, and it’s completely understandable. But what if there were a way to keep that sense of New Year’s enthusiasm all the time?

Actually, there is.

Think about it: Today is Monday. New Year or not, I love Mondays, because they herald the start of a brand new week. Every Monday is an opportunity to say ‘Last week is irrelevant. This is going to be my week!’ Monday is a fresh start.

But what about Tuesday? Well, when you wake up Tuesday morning, what are you facing? That’s right: a brand new day. And every new day is an opportunity to put the previous day behind you and say ‘Whatever happened yesterday is irrelevant. Today is going to be my day.’

Get it? You can start fresh anytime. Once you recognise the beauty and power of the NOW, you can celebrate every moment of your life.

So. Happy New Year. Happy New Monday. Happy New Day. Happy New You!

With warmth,

Sheila

Look Back and Laugh

by Sheila on December 22nd, 2009

You know the difference between a bad experience and a good story? Time.

Let me give an example.

Recently, I had one of those days.

You know the kind. It started out bad and went downhill from there.

The electricity had gone off some time during the night, so my alarm didn’t go off, so I woke up late and had to dash out of the house to make a meeting. It was raining (of course), so I drove with my lights on. I rushed into the meeting, late, of course. When I went in, the meeting was well underway and I had to sit at the front – the only spot at the table, so everyone’s eyes were glaring at me. When we broke for lunch, I tried to make my apologies, but everyone was rushing for their cars.

The meeting was in one of those industrial estates where every building looks alike, and there are no amenities – no newsagents, no restaurants or coffee shops … nothing.

I got in my car, too, but it wouldn’t start. In my haste, I’d left the lights on.

I reached for my mobile phone and immediately knew it wasn’t there. I’d plugged it in by my bed the night before to charge, and it was still there.

I started walking toward what I assumed was the centre of town – hoping to find a shop with a pay phone.

I passed warehouse after warehouse. No people. No shops. Not a single car drove by.

Eventually, over the hill I could see the top of a petrol station sign. I headed in that direction. When I arrived at the petrol station it was closed. For good. A sign of the times, I guess. Now I had been walking away from the meeting room for half an hour, so I had to go back to be on time for the afternoon session.

Incidentally, I had skipped breakfast, and now I was positively starving.

I arrived back at the room just as the meeting was starting up again. Panting and out of breath, I took my seat, only to be told that it was my turn to do my presentation.

I stood up, flustered, flushed and breathless, and tried to give my presentation. I opened with a joke, which fell flat, and in the silence that ensued, my stomach decided to announce its displeasure at not being fed.

The presentation did not go well.

When the meeting was over, I asked if anyone had jump leads, and one very nice man said he did, and he’d give me a hand.

He managed to get my car started. I thanked him, and he went on his way.

That was when I realised I’d left my briefcase in the meeting room. Everyone was gone by now, but I had a key to the room, so I turned off the car and let myself in to get my briefcase.

You guessed it. Now the car wouldn’t start.

It was getting dark, now, and I felt extremely vulnerable. No phone, no car, alone in an abandoned industrial estate.

Then these three burly workmen began walking toward me, talking loudly and joking together.

I tried to look like I had some purpose there, but I didn’t even have a phone to make a fake phone call.

When they got very close, I realised they weren’t speaking English. One of them looked me in the eye and smiled. He said something to the others, and after a bizarre game of charades they were able to persuade me to sit in the car in second gear, with the clutch engaged. They gave me a mighty push down the lane, I popped the clutch and, lo and behold, the car started!

I offered to give them a lift, but they just pointed to a van a few yards away, and laughed. I offered them some money but they laughed even harder and walked away.

A rotten day?

At the time, yeah. But I’ve had great fun since then telling that story, how one disaster led to another, but it all worked out in the end.

Wouldn’t it be great if we could see the humour in our daily trials and tribulations, instead of waiting to look back and laugh?

With warmth,

Sheila

The Joy of Eating – Alone

by Sheila on December 17th, 2009

Eating alone can be a real treat.

Really. I know, many people think there’s something sad about eating alone, and most of us, faced with the prospect, grab whatever food is within reach and gobble it down as quickly as possible as if eating alone were something to get over with as quickly as possible.

But that approach misses a lovely opportunity.

On those rare occasions when I have the kitchen to myself, I like to take the time to really enjoy it.

Instead of heating up leftovers and eating them in front of the telly, I like to take some time looking through cookbooks for inspiration. (Warning, browsing through cookbooks can cause your saliva gland to go into over-production). Actually, I rarely use a specific recipe I find in a cookbook, using them instead for ideas, reminders of what I can actually make with the odds and ends in the pantry.

Of course, eating alone is a great time to experiment with a new recipe. If it falls flat, there’s no one to criticise, and you’ve learned something for next time. (Okay, peanut butter and pineapple really don’t go together well!) But if it is a delight, you’ve made a new discovery, and your courage in experimenting on yourself has paid off with a new dish to delight family and friends in the future.

Also, when preparing a meal by yourself you can really pay attention to each ingredient, savouring the smells and flavours and colours as you go.

Eating alone is also a great time to appreciate the visual delights of dining. Take the time to spread a table cloth and light a candle, put a couple of flowers in a vase. These things aren’t just for guests – you deserve them, too!

And music! I love music, and when I’m cooking and eating by myself I can play my favourite tunes as I potter about the kitchen. Then, when I’m sitting down to eat, the music really adds another dimension to the experience.

Taking time with these little details means that every sense is simultaneously nurtured.

Call it ‘soul food.’

With warmth,

Sheila