the truth about Emergence

the truth about Emergence

Are you one of those shy people like my child who likes to observe their surroundings before stepping out and into the chaos?

Or maybe you are more like me, a person that has no fear taking headlong leaps into the dark abyss?  For nearly  10 months we have lived in a constant state of fear, for ourselves, our families and friends. We have hidden away and locked ourselves up tight in hopes or preventing the spread of a virus that until recently held us gripped in panic.

As the vaccine begins to spreads and we carefully take a step back out into the world, I wonder with what type of outlook and open heart we are emerging. We have lived isolated, cut off from every single source that fills our cup. We have replaced social human contact with electronic devices that more so that not have spewed anger, frustrations and even accusations to a world that is filled with soulful human beings who are just as confused and saddened as the rest of us.

Our sighs have deepened and not for an energetic release and recuperation but more so of a deep-seated sadness that resides in the pit of our bellies. We have tried to replace the nurturing touch of other humans with electronic devices that have numbed our sensibilities and compassion for one another. I see the side stepping of people who once open heartedly embraced me. The scowls of people in stores when their safety is at risk by an incorrectly worn masks. The quick tempers, the irritations and validations of irrational opinions based on unproven facts. 

At what point do we embrace our emergence? Who or what are we allowing to dictate we have the all clear to live our lives?  We will all step back into the world completely different people, there is no doubt. But I ask you, how will you reemerge and share your gifts and grace with the world? With bitter temperaments, anger from loss  … or gratitude for the gift of life?

Every human soul is born with love and grace in their heart. Every. Living. Soul.

Step out and seek to find that seed that may be buried deep in your neighbors, your co-workers, even distanced relatives and try to look upon them with compassion as we all tentatively take in a deep breath. Emerge slowly if needed. Your conscience and heart need to be fully awakened as you step out. But my friends, it is time to release the anger, the sadness and impatience with one another and wrap our arms around each other and heal this incredible loss of life, family and freedom we have experienced this year. It is time to move forward and emerge with hearts blazing.

Micki Beach, owner and lead instructor at Tree of Life Yoga Studio in Oak Island, NC, is the author of 10 Little Rules for Finding Your Truth. Her book is available at www.10littlerules.com, on Amazon, and at select retail stores and her studio.

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the truth about Solitude

the truth about Solitude

Rule #4… Accept

This may be the hardest of all the rules in 10 Little Rules for Finding Your Truth.

Acceptance is “consent to receive (a thing offered)”. Once we establish stillness in our heart. It magically speaks to us. It proposes a truth. Our truth. An offering… but yet, the kicker is, we must be willing to accept it, receive it. Own it.

Acceptance is also defined as to “believe or come to recognize (an opinion, explanation, etc.) as valid or correct”. How often do we hear those speakings and refused to believe it is what is best for us, our true nature? The brain wants to argue and debate and rationalize and legitimize. The heart brain will not argue…it simply patiently waits until the acceptance is complete and willing. Once we rid the mind of the harmful self speak, we rid our lives of toxic people and habits…

This is where we sit in solitude. Calm at first, peaceful and grateful for the stillness.  The initial  “purging of the soul is exhausting. It is an emotional release of all the burdens and pain we have carried for so long. Sometimes we even lack the willpower to move even a step forward. We never feel the true weight of those capes until we release them. You know those moments…maybe you have had a gut wrenching cry with your best friend. Sometimes the purging appears as an impromptu sing along to the car radio so loud someone can hear you three cars over. Or maybe it is an off the cuff rant over a parking space or a slow driver. Release of emotions leaves a hollowness in our chest, our belly. We are so used to the “fullness of energy in our bodies in constant propulsion that when we find some “out of character” way to release it, it leaves a void…a space where that anger, sadness, guilt or longing once resided.”

It is in this stillness that we start to panic. There is a tendency to grasp for the old, the familiar no matter how toxic it once was to us. But…  maybe… just “maybe if we thought of this space that was left, not as a void but a place of stillness, a quietness where we can listen, our “purges” will come with less guilt and shame and less of a dramatic performance.”

Only in solitude can we reconnect with our true nature. Our heart’s speakings. Our truth. And THIS is a regular meeting you need to have with that dear friend, your heart. We are inundated daily, with messages, sabotages, angers and frustrations. Take time each day to reconnect with your truth. Your stillness. It may be simply taking a walk in nature and pacing your footfalls with your breath, or a hot soak in a salted bath, or sitting in your favorite chair with your favorite candle burning while you simply follow your breath.

Take time in solitude.

You need it to reconnect with you.

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the truth about Purpose

the truth about Purpose

Everything we do has purpose… 

ˈpərpəs: noun
1. the reason for which something is done or created or for which something exists.

It is … motive, motivation, grounds, cause, occasion, reason, point, basis, justification … 

 It is our intention or objective …

Some days aren’t great.  I am not great.

So I sit. 

I stay quiet. 

I fold and release anything not serving me into this gracious earth. 

Some days I just lay on my mat. 

 … and that’s okay. 

Some days I am not my best self. 

Today I am angry, irritable, bristly… 

 After 44 years of people telling and labeling me as bitchy, a complainer, self-centered … I have learned (in order to save a lot of heart aches of being misunderstood) to sense my own prickliness as it arises …

and remove myself. 

To just be still, 

quiet, 

hover around the periphery and release control. 

This way I don’t inflict my progressive emotions on others. 

I have no right to do that. 

Today for that matter, this week …

I feel those thorns pushing through the surface of my skin almost as if it were a physical sensation. 

I know the beach, the surf and the waves, the wind, the sand, the warmth… 

it will help provide a retreat simply because of the expanse of space, sound, and water …

the distractions are many … for us all. 

As everyone filters in their respective directions, I can be still, contemplative, thoughtful, 

or at least that’s what it seems to others. 

When in actuality, I am protecting them. 

“I give you space to explore, to be you, so I can withdraw and be me.” 

I can’t find me with all these sharp external sensations. 

I love those around me enough to know and see who I really am in these moments.

Everything we do has a purpose. 

I watch for a while …

the swim, 

the socialization, 

the structures they build in the sand, 

the bonding, 

the strength building, 

the fortresses,

the shell seeking, 

the next project, 

the next shell…

My purpose really is seclusion … 

the quiet. 

But I walk, 

brisk pace, 

my chest tight. 

I am alone with all this now. 

Meditation isn’t easy even for yogi of 14 years. 

It’s a concerted effort. 

So I listen, 

watch … 

Just the breath. 

Not the shells 

or the waves 

or my surroundings. 

I don’t care what it looks like to others. 

I need to find me. 

There are two steps per inhale and two for each exhale. 

So I note 

and focus. 

It’s forced at first. 

There is an inner dialogue … 

“You need this … 

They need this … 

Be still … 

Notice.  

So 

50 steps or so … 

it is still purposeful.

Until …

then it’s not. 

We so often stop … 

right before the break through. 

The distractions pull us away …

I feel the sand blowing abrasively on the backs of my legs. 

It pulls me away. 

I hear yelling child. 

I am torn again. 

The breath pace broken as I bend to knee. 

“Find it again …

It is there …

even with distractions.”

inhale, inhale … exhale, exhale …

“It can be paced …

 in the storm.”

“Oh look, that’s what I need for _____.”

Come back…

inhale, inhale… exhale, exhale. 

I gaze forward. I see my loved ones…

my pace quickens. 

I notice this. 

“They will be anxious because I’ve been gone so long.”

Then…

I feel the ground. 

Heel, ball, toe… 

inhale… exhale… 

and finally I walk as if my feet are kissing the earth. 

Everything stills. 

Minute details are noted. 

The etching in the sand of the spine caused by the waves. 

The tiniest sea glass. 

Slow-motion details. 

It’s almost as if I’m swimming through space. 

My breath nonexistent now. 

My heartbeat slowed. 

My mind has softened. 

There is an acceptance. 

A love. 

A peace. 

A knowing. 

The result… 

My purpose forgotten. 

Having no purpose is healing. 

A knowing without answers. 

A stillness in the moment.

Be still and know…

Micki is the author of 10 Little Rules for Finding Your Truth. Originally posted on Tree of Life Yoga Studio’s website on Our Voice Blog.

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the truth about Manifestation

the truth about Manifestation

man·i·fes·ta·tion

ˌmanəfəˈstāSH(ə)n,ˌmanəˌfesˈtāSH(ə)n/
noun

an event, action, or object that clearly shows or embodies something, 

especially a theory or an abstract idea.

 

I am always looking for a great book to read. I found out some of my Oak Island, yogi friends were reading E2 by Pam Grout about manifesting your intentions. 

Small 48 hour experiments for even the most steadfast skeptic. 

I am done Existing.
I am done sitting back and patiently for the universe to send me what I need.
I now feel worthy … almost.

It’s time. My time.
So I bought the book and I started reading. 

Let me preface what I’m about to tell you…

I believe. 

Most days… 

But here is the catch. 

I doubt sometimes… 

kinda. 

Whether it is self esteem or those pentacostal teachings of humbleness or greed… 

there is always a tiny seed of unworthiness or doubt deep in my heart.

But I was ready to give this E2 experimentation a good old college try! 

As a child, I remember spending sun soaked days down at The Point on Oak Island. It was a peaceful time. We swam and sailed and threw sand and chased gulls. If we needed our mother, we could always find her knee deep off the sand bars with a bucket full of sand dollars and one of shark’s teeth. 

Every. 

Single. 

Time. 

 Buckets full! 

So here I was. 

Remembering that I had never found a whole sand dollar on the island.

There were only pieces that teased that they were just beyond my reach. 

 

 

And, of course, my mother had found hundreds of them. 

(So can I)

So I cast my net so to speak. 

 

“I will find a whole sand dollar today.”

I went to The Point. I sat and enjoyed my view where the Intercoastal Waterway meets the vast ocean. I talked with a friend. I prepared my paddle board for an evening ride. 

I guess I was giving the universe ample time to get that sand dollar and put it in a place where I was sure to find it. 

And I said my intention over and over. 

Out loud and in my heart. 

In my mind…

and again out loud for good measure. 

I nudged my friend…

it was time. 

As if I was professing to the universe… “Wake up. 

I am ready for my gift from the sea.” 

We headed right to the sand bars. Got down on our knees and began to dig. We laughed and played and talked. 

(No need to doubt right?). 

That’s what the book says. 

We dug for at least an hour…

dug to China, 

pulled embedded shells out of our knees and rubbed our sore backs. 

No sand dollar. 

So I decided it was time to take a walk.  

(Surely if the universe didn’t bury my sand dollar in the exact location I chose to dig, it would just be lying out in the open on the beach for me to find… despite the other 400 beachcombers out that day). 

It WAS just waiting for me. 

We walked…

I professed… 

I didn’t cling…

I only doubted … a tiny bit…

as the sun started setting. 

Soon we would take to water and paddleboard a bit. How long could I encourage my friend to be patient with the universe? 

In all fairness 

(I told myself), 

you ARE supposed to allow 48 hours for your manifestation to be revealed to you.

It had been what, 4 hours?  

But I have never been known to be patient. 

We walked the sandbars and dodged crabs. I stopped “looking” for my treasure/gift from the sea. I just rationalized and schemed how I would find time to get back out to The Point within my 48 hour window.

I didn’t make excuses or lay blame or chastise a busy universe. I just decided it was time to enjoy my day and stop searching. 

It would COME to me. 

That’s what the book said…

I didn’t need to search for it. 

(That was my Type A kicking in) 

So as we rounded the last sandbar and casually discussed our children, I ventured toward the water to rinse the sand from my hands, one last time before paddle boarding. 

The slow ebbing wave eased out to be part of it whole again. 

There…

in the sand…

poking out just a bit..

Oh my god! 

Get! 

Out! 

I reached down. 

Rubbed my fingers over the knobby exterior. 

Its color brillant. 

Buried almost fully. 

I dropped to my knees and had to tug to free it from its grainy home… 

It seemed as if it wanted to stay and again become part of the earth from which it came. 

On my knees, 

The Universe spoke to me. 

Not a whisper. 

Not a reassurance. 

It bulldozed me! 

and I cried. ​​ 

This…

This was not my sand dollar. 

My friend looked confused. 

I could not speak. 

I rinsed it, turned it over, 

rubbed and loved my channeled whelk. 

My friend offered to place it in our bag and I refused. 

To hold it for me…

I refused. 

This moment was undeniably one of the most profound in my life. 

I held my friend’s hand…

then began to explain when I saw his confused gaze. 

“When I set my intention upon the universe earlier that day, there was a streaking thought.”

“I wish I could find a large conch.”

“But I never find them whole or even bigger than a finger. Not ever.”

“So … I conceded …

I will ask for a sand dollar. My mother found millions here. I WILL find a sand dollar today.” 

And so my mantra went…

It was a self assuring way that I knew the Universe WOULD NOT, 

COULD NOT let me down. 

But here I was, 

on my knees holding the largest conch I have ever seen, let alone found, in its natural habitat. 

Full.

Unbroken.

Beautiful. 

The Universe told me loud and clear…

“You deserve everything!”

“Never doubt me!”

Be Yoga. 

Namaste

 

Micki is the author of 10 Little Rules for Finding Your Truth. Originally posted on Tree of Life Yoga Studio’s website on Our Voice Blog.

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the truth about Excess

the truth about Excess

I get my inspirations at the oddest times. Today it presented itself during a beautiful ride in my Jeep. All the windows are off. The doors are off. Cool breeze … taking my little one to work. I’m anticipating a leisurely ride back over our island bridge and a gentleman (I use this term loosely) pulls quickly out in front of me, obviously in a hurry to get somewhere. I immediately know in my heart he’s on his way to see someone special. At 45 mph (properly spaced 4 car lengths behind (see I remember my drivers ed), I can literally taste his cologne. Taste it!

My dad always told me you should only wear enough of a scent that a person invited into your personal space can smell it. But obviously this gentleman did not have a father like mine.

So I start thinking about excess. The excess of things we have. The excess of things we want. Excess of the things we think we need.

I am an empath. I have a heightened sensitivity to people who talk too much … to bright lights, loud sounds, and all strong smells. You can imagine this man’s cologne was putting me over the edge.

By the time I got home my brow was furrowed, my head was hurting and all I wanted to do was close my door and turn the air conditioner down and sit in the dark.

We rarely think about how our excess affects other people. But even more so how it affects OUR lives. When we have too many choices to choose from, it becomes an overwhelming job just to complete a task.

Think about how many pairs of shoes you have. When it is time to get ready to go out, how many times do you change your shoes? We spend so much time, energy, and effort making choices because of our excess, it robs us of valuable time we could be spending in the moments that we are trying to get to.

Eliminating access is not easy. It was forced upon me last year when I moved from a 3,300 square-foot house into a 1,200 square-foot house. I had five shelves full of books. My tiny little beach house was not gonna hold all this literature. And although it pained me as I sifted through the books, gently caressing the covers remembering every story between the pages, I had to decide what was more important … this home that I always wanted or keeping my treasures gathered around me.

The Majestic Bookstore in Osaka, Japan

So I packed up all my books (I saved one bookshelf of my favorites) and took them to a beautiful little consignment bookstore in Southport. I was prepared to donate all the books hoping that they would find the loving hands of another avid reader. When I brought the boxes of books into the store, they told me that I could actually get store credit for the books I turned in and would be able to purchase more with my credit in the future.

One book at a time.

This cleansing and purging felt so good I actually, with confidence, was able to go through all my pocketbooks and give away all but one in each color. That solved the problem of having to figure out a way to store my many pocketbooks in my tiny new closet. I then went through my shoes, my clothes and even my housewares. I had collected over 12 comforter sets including curtains and rugs over the years. Who needs 12 different comforter sets?

Why do we hang on to the excess? Many people tell me it’s because someone gave them some special thing. They feel like they needed to hang onto a specific item because Aunt Kate or Grandma so and so gave it to them. They feel guilty throwing it away or passing it along.

By releasing the excess that I had, I actually created space for more beautiful things to enter my life.

If we take a moment and try to clear the lens that we are looking through, we may begin to understand that we hold on to memories in our hearts and not the material things people give us. We can still hold these people dear and not be attached to the material things they impart on us.

So take some time to look around your house. What excess do you have that you can release back into the universe?
When we let go …
we make a space for more beautiful things to enter.

Side Note:
The only thing I have not purged is my fingernail polish. Now that’s a whole different story! What can I say? Rainbow toes make my heart happy in Down Dog. 

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the truth about Restraint

the truth about Restraint

I still get amazed at others’ greed, self-centeredness, arrogance, rudeness …

superiority … (feel free to add here).  

I find my center,

I breathe so I don’t throat punch people,

I stretch and release the knots of frustration trapped in my body, 

I fold to humble my rising ego …

I do ALL these things … 

so I can be better …

more peaceful to others. 

My type A and OCD personality is too BIG for many, so I find peace in the storms through my breath and my mat. 

Yet …

I am tossed right back into that sea of churning waves of chaos of others when they present to me (as an entitlement), exactly what I work so hard to shield them from …

in me. 

My pre-yogi nature emerges and says ”what gives you the right?” (and a few other nasty words)

… and then that saying comes back to me …”forgive them, they don’t know any better.” 

That’s hard …

YOU don’t deserve me on my bad days or even moments. I have learned to step back, reflect, soften my heart. 

AND …

I know the pain you hold makes you bitter and mean and unapologetic.  

Even though I KNOW ALL THIS …

when others take my softness, my calmness and accepting nature as weakness …

Well let’s just say 

The urge to kick someone in the spleen reemerges. Like ninja karate style 

So back to my mat I go 

Sigh 

It is a lifelong practice 

A daily practice 

A ritual to protect our souls, our sanity and our rap sheet. 

(I just want to drag some of those jerks to the mat as well.)

There is no excuse for rudeness or superiority. 

No one has the right to make you feel less than a superhero! 

And if they do … dig down into that uddiyana bandha and surge that solar plexus power right up to your throat chakra and speak your truth! 

Being a yogi 

does 

not 

equate 

to being a doormat! 

Repeat that! 

Let it be your mantra! 

And remember …

It takes control to find restraint! 

IT IS NOT WEAKNESS! 

It is strength! 

Be full of awesome!

This post first appeared on Tree of Life Yoga Studio’s website at www.tolyoga.com and is posted here by permission. Micki is the author of 10 Little Rules for Finding Your Truth.

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the truth about Patience

the truth about Patience

Mach speed.

I move at no other pace and often get impatient when others aren’t keeping
up with me. It’s been labeled as “controlling” and “bitchy” in the past.

Neither did I fondly adore! But I am a firm believer in messages from the Universe. And although I love that I have the ability to recognize those beneficial doors swinging open for me, I now know that sometimes that gentle, metaphysical nudge I get in the back isn’t always something I want to turn around face.

In the last few months it seems I have had several people say to me, “Yeah Micki, you aren’t really known for your patience.” What me? I was a Elementary classroom teacher. I home schooled a child! If those don’t take absolute and utter patience, I don’t know what does.

But there it was … my dear friends would politely pause as they told a story that excited me so much I had to jump in and ask clarifying questions. They really do love me … An ex-husband who would often say … “well if you would just let me finish.” (Which mind you I would follow up with “by the time you finish your story I will have forgotten the 12 things I wanted to ask you as you told it”.) I always had an excuse for my impatience. Sometimes my thoughts weren’t very kind as I toe tapped waiting for someone to finish something … a task, a story. But I HAD learned to not actually physically take over said project or job. I WAS, of course, a teacher at heart!

After being dubbed “Squirrel ,“ (which I am absolutely positive now was not necessarily a good thing, as once described, when I mentally darted around with all my creative projects, writings and inspirations) I’ve tried to tame my inner chaos by stepping out of my box and painting. My mom always painted. It couldn’t be that hard right?

My first impression …

“Jesus … do people really do this as a form of relaxation?”

I was a ball of nerves even trying to free hand what I had hoped to paint.

Then there is my child who has completed two paint by numbers pieces of art that are absolutely amazing. Although I long for a beautiful piece to adorn my wall, I just shake my head as I walk past her hunched over and constantly offer her more light. I had absolutely zero desire to do one of these intricacies, none! THAT should have been my first clue that my patience needed a little hand holding.

She would sit for hours, completely entranced with brush in hand, earbuds in her ears painting away.

And then one more person commented on my patience …

So I ordered my kit. It had numbers. No creativity required.

Covid entertainment. Torture.

Therapy. The cheapest kind.

So here I sit and amazingly my heartbeat slows down. My monkey mind goes silent. There is no urge to dart from task to task. 

Sometimes we keep busy so we don’t have to listen to our whispers of truth.

Those truths let us see the beauty and sparkles in our lives but they also allow us to reflect and refine our own edges.

Life is a journey.

Keep growing …

and painting!

 

 

 

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the truth about Messiness

the truth about Messiness

We live in a home of artists …

always inspired by our next project before the last one is even done. I find myself at times apologizing to my daughter for my “messes..” Yet she always reassures me that it’s just organized chaos … with a purpose.

I have found my artistic inspiration has taken a great leap out of my metaphorical emotional window this last year. My nature-inspired art can even get a kick start on my beach walks or garden ramblings. I have unfinished projects laying on my outside workbench. A dragonfly doomed to never fly because his missing last wing is an enigma to me. My stacks of shells and rocks mock me every time I walk past them.

My walks, which were once inspiring, now leave with me that familiar voice in my head that says “why even look for anything else … you can’t even finish what you started.”

and sometimes I listen …

and I don’t look.

So my heart stays heavy. I can’t bear to throw out the projects I was once so inspired to share with the world. So my work space stays cluttered and I hang on to the hope that THAT particular inspiration will grace me again.

But I know this isn’t true. Those inspirations came from a place I am no longer in, a space, an emotion that I chose not have anymore. So do I toss it all and start again? How can I do that when there are so few things that inspire me anymore? I am literally cut off from teaching and loving and supporting all those around me. I thrive and fill my cup by being around my tribe until it spills over into art.

But …

I focus on gratitude … for all I have … my messes and all. For the inspirations that once drove those half finished creations even though they are no more. Because in that gratitude I remember the person I am. That everything I see in others is just a reflection of myself.

And today, as I walked by that tree that has been laying on my workbench for six months, an inspiration whispered in my ear. It said Eisha, my soul sister, is coming back to visit soon. So then I followed that thread. Yes, I jumped on that train! This is a distraction I DID need. So I drifted to our past visits and laughter and teasing and tears. The healing and all the sunshine she brings with her on her visits.

As I looked at this tree that was once supposed to cradle wooden hearts from all the places my ex and I would travel to, I realized that often times people travel to my home for healing and love. Then I knew that all those people who graced my home would always have a warm hug (and a room) to come to. So now my tree will hold heart rocks in its branches … the rocks that the universe sends me via the ocean sand and waves … to remind me everything is going to be o.k.

Most of my visitors come to stay because they need a safe place to heal. So now my guest room will have a bowl full of heart rocks that each visitor will choose their own to place on our “family tree” that will hang in that room and then one to place in their pocket to take home. I hope it will remind them that they always have love around them … if only they lift their gaze to find it.

Sometimes our messes don’t need to be thrown out, just transformed by what our heart is speaking. Our truth. Not last year’s or last week’s intentions or inspirations but what moves us in this very moment.

Life is messy. Sometimes we have to change our perspective and see what beauty lies beneath the chaos.

#findyourtruth

Micki Beach, author of 10 Little Rules for Finding Your Truth

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