FIND YOUR HEART

I'm a seeker. When I'm still and silent, I receive clarity for my search. I also allow what is seeking me to find me.

Life is like a game of hide-and-seek. Some of what we search for is hidden in plain sight, and some can be found in unexpected places. As the years go by, I go deeper to seek the answers, for they're often already hidden inside of me. The older I get, the more my search gives way to what was actually seeking me all the while. I imagine there is universality to my experience.

There are those natural transitions in life when we spend more time in contemplation, search, and discovery: graduation, marriage, job changes, the birth of a child, a cross-country move, illness, retirement, or the death of a loved one.

Sometimes I'm not so much the active seeker as the one who's being sought. When I'm still and silent, I receive the illumination of clarity for my search and hear the active voice of what might be seeking me. It might be a new direction, a new insight to consider, or a new action to take that will forever chart a changed course for my life.

One Sunday, my pastor spoke about following your call. She suggested we need to listen to the call and heed it, even when it doesn't follow what we had intended or planned for our lives. At such times, we're being sought.

Her words made me think of the twists and turns that have come into my life and how often I thought I knew where the path was taking me — only to find it wasn't where I was supposed to be at all.

There are benefits to surrendering from our preconceived notions and plans. I seldom like to surrender fully because I value having a sense of control. When I do surrender, I allow life to do its thing. I allow myself to be sought rather than to be the seeker.

When I move intentionally and with my whole being into a new, sweet place of surrender, I let go of the sense of control I usually carry on my shoulders. Consequently, the weight of my burdens lessens and often completely disappears.

As a result of that intentional action on my part, amazing things happen. When I don't force things to go a certain way (the way I think they should go), a better way makes itself known. I see life as a series of curvy paths. The straight lines no longer look quite as attractive. By allowing for some serendipity and synchronicity, a new way of seeing and being unfolds.

So it was when I started dating my husband. I was recovering from a previous year that had included a divorce, a mastectomy (my second in less than five years), and chemotherapy. I was gaunt and pale and trying to figure out how to move my life forward after loss and illness. I let myself be completely flat-chested without trying to hide the fact that I had undergone bilateral mastectomies by the age of thirty-five. I wore a wig in a hairstyle that was foreign to me in order to hide the baldness that had come with treatment. As soon as I had enough wispy fuzz growing on my head, I removed the wig. Despite the emotional and physical trauma I had experienced, I wanted to be in a loving relationship. Rather than dwell on it, however, I let go and focused instead on my healing. It was at that same time that I began serving on a committee through our local chamber of commerce. Among those seated at the table was the new executive director of the city's local theater. After attending a few committee meetings together, the theater director asked me out, much to my surprise. Although I didn't look what I'd call my best, Larry saw beyond my flat chest, my budding hair, my pale skin, and my gaunt frame and decided I was worth a date. My letting go of a particular outcome led to an enduring and loving relationship with Larry, one that has lasted twenty-four years and counting.

Whatever is seeking you may not be a life partner, a career path, or a new city in which to live. It might be as simple (or perhaps as difficult) as being a source of love and light in the lives of others, bringing words of hope during ordinary and extraordinary times. You may be called to do something you could never have imagined for yourself.

How will you know if you've found your heart? Be still. Be. Listen carefully. As the answers come, see how they resonate with you. There may be some surprises. You may resist what you hear. But if you can accept and embrace the answers you receive, begin to move forward. Set goals and identify the first steps toward achieving them.

The more you stop what you're doing, quiet your mind, and listen deeply, the more you'll be able to hear the true words of your calling — the finding of your heart. Then and only then will you know the path to follow.

HOPEFUL HEART

I have dreams for my life. I take positive action toward them every day, even if they're small steps.

Everyone is talking about having a bucket list these days — a list of those things you hope to accomplish before the end of your life, such as learning to play the piano or traveling to Paris.

Although I consider myself to be pragmatic, there is a dreamer inside of me just as there is in everyone. I don't have a bucket list exactly, but I do have ideas and dreams for my life. I hope I'll always have dreams and aspirations. Their good energy propels me into each new day with anticipation.

Developing our dreams is an exciting and energetic process. Deep inside each of our hearts is that special and sacred place where our dreams and aspirations are born and nurtured. They're in a constant process of forming and growing until they're ready to burst forth. The process cannot and should not be ignored, for dreams will have their way of tugging at us until we acknowledge and feed them.

What dreams do you carry in that safe, secret, and sacred place in your heart? What dreams are waiting to burst forth? How do you plan to manifest them? What is stopping you?

Be bold. Take action. Don't be scared by the prospect of a huge leap. Take a small step. The first step can seem hard, but doing nothing at all is even harder. An unrealized dream will only lead to regret. A small step will propel you forward and build your confidence, leading to the next step and the next until your dream is a reality.

Getting to that first small step will take some thought about your way of thinking. We all tend to get stuck in our ruts and find change a fearful prospect. By embracing change, however, which is always with you anyway, you release some of the tension. And if you accept that your attempts might lead to some mistakes and even failures along the way, you'll become less fearful. You might even end up on a path you would have never seen for yourself. What's there to lose for trying? It's all about learning and having fun, being curious, and creating the conditions in your life to have and realize your dreams, regardless of your age or circumstances.

A curious mind is a fertile mind, creating an ideal environment for dream making. A handy dose of curiosity and a desire to learn new things make the process more enjoyable and may actually help shape your dreams in ways you couldn't anticipate or expect.

My late father lived his dreams. From childhood on, he had a curiosity and respect for reptiles, especially snakes. Dad grew up during the Great Depression, and his mother was widowed young. With the untimely death of my grandfather, Grandma found herself solely responsible for the well-being of her four young children, with my father being the only son. As a boy, Dad discovered a fascination for reptiles. By the time he was in his teens, and then a young man, his interest had grown even deeper. He studied reptiles, made drawings of their anatomy, wrote notes in journals, read scholarly books, and even kept cages of local snakes in their home. Despite not being particularly fond of his pets, my grandmother encouraged Dad's passion and even helped feed and care for the snakes, moving their cages carefully from window to window to ensure they got the right amount of warmth and light.

Dad's interest in reptiles didn't wane during his stint in the US Army. He managed to find time to hunt and learn more about reptiles from faraway places, including the Mojave Desert and Germany where he was stationed during World War II. Following the war, Dad dedicated his time to increasing his knowledge and fostering relationships with a network of experts on the subject of reptiles.

Shortly after my parents married, they bought rural property in Wisconsin where they built their own reptile farm as a place for education about these oft-misunderstood creatures. At the same time, Dad also embarked on a successful decades-long career of lecturing in schools and other venues across the continental United States about the virtues and value of reptiles in the ecosystem. Everywhere he went, Dad was known as "the snake man." His popular presentations and programs were given praise and high marks. He became a frequent recipient of favorable print and broadcast publicity coverage as a reptile expert and educator. My mother and I had many opportunities to travel with him on his school program circuits, which provided a rich education for me even before I was old enough to attend school myself.

Throughout his life, my dad kept learning through reading, study, and discussions with professors, naturalists, herpetologists, conservationists, zoo administrators, college graduate students, and reptile enthusiasts. They were all frequent visitors to our reptile farm. I don't believe that Dad left this earth with a bucket list. Step by step throughout his life, he pursued his dreams and saw his aspirations turn into reality.

The ability to dream and aspire is evergreen. It doesn't matter at what point you are in life. The desire to experience life as an adventurer invites you to learn something new each day. Think about what appeals to your curiosity and interests. Listen to your dreams. Believe in your aspirations. Make them happen, step by step. It is out of your dreams that wonderful, new things will be born.

HEART OF SUCCESS

I'm successful, regardless of how much money or how many material possessions I have.

The theme of our church's annual stewardship drive one year was about discovering joy through simplicity and generosity. The moment I learned of that theme, I knew it was meant for me because I love a life of generosity and simplicity. I believe there is great joy in the act of giving, especially when coupled with an attitude of gratitude for the blessing of abundance.

To kick off the stewardship drive, my pastor spoke of our society's definition of success as a life of consuming, acquiring, and buying. In her words, the American dream has become something of an American nightmare. She talked about affluenza, that state of extreme consumerism that leads to debt and overwork in an attempt to get out of the debt. She talked about "credit-itis," when materialism leads to buying more on credit than one can afford. She talked about our desire for more that is never satisfied.

Although I grew up in an instant-gratification era, my parents were products of the Great Depression. They understood what it meant to do without, and they instilled in me their value of frugality. They lived below their means and did so happily. They lived without fear of suffering from lack. Consequently, I have very few needs and even fewer wants. Fortunately, my husband and I have the same values, so we happily live a frugal lifestyle together.

Each time I contemplate buying something, I stop myself before making the purchase to determine at what cost I'm willing to add one more item to my heap of possessions. Is the item a necessity or is it a whim? Will the item bring me joy or will it just be one more thing to dust, store, insure? Will it enhance my well-being? If the proposed purchase meets my criteria for justification, I buy it willingly. Then, as I bring that item into our home, I remove at least one other thing. That practice prevents me from having too much stuff and hopefully moves me closer to a simpler, more streamlined life with fewer things to own me. It's my own effort to keep away the affluenza and "credit-itis" to which my pastor spoke and to embrace the minimalism that seems natural to me.

While housecleaning one Saturday morning, I thought about how our belongings own us, how if I had less living space and fewer things, my life would be lighter. With that church stewardship season theme of discovering joy through simplicity and generosity as my inspiration, I began to concentrate even more on acquiring less for myself and giving more to others. With each step I took, I found my efforts increased my happiness.

A person needs very little to be happy. Once your basic needs are met, everything else is frosting on the cake. Happiness is not based on what you own, what you wear, what kind of car you drive, in what neighborhood you live, or what you do for a living. Happiness is attainable simply by looking at your life through a lens of gratitude, taking care of yourself, finding meaning in your work to make the world a better place, and fostering deep, lasting relationships with family and friends.

A simple, happy life is a successful life. In our society, sadly, we can be swayed by persuasive pressures to consume and overwork, creating a vicious cycle of constantly naming our wants, buying to hopefully fulfill them, and then working long hours or more than one job in order to pay for those wants.

What we have come to define as success may actually end up weighing us down with all of its baggage. When we adjust our thinking so that we can see success from different angles, we're able to discard some of that baggage, revealing a level of joy we may not have experienced for a long time. This can be particularly true if our focus has been on doing whatever is needed, including working unrealistically long hours, in order to climb the corporate ladder. We've allowed ourselves to be put on a short leash, preventing us from being fully away from our work because technology has tethered us to the desk even in our off-hours or while on vacation. Perhaps there hasn't even been time for a vacation because success meant working all of the time.

I've been guilty of not using the vacation time I earned, and I'm not proud of it. Once I realized such a lifestyle was unhealthy for me, I took steps to change my ways. My husband joined me by embracing many of those changes.

I started by scheduling long weekends off from work, using my vacation days as opportunities for mini-getaways, staycations, and retreats. I began muting my smartphone the minute I got home from work, checking it only at intervals in the evening and on weekends. I stopped looking at my smartphone altogether at least one hour before bedtime. I began to incorporate time each day for meditation, reading, play, and exercise.

My husband and I switched to a healthy, plant-based diet of whole foods, and we decided to reserve eating out only for special occasions. Consequently, we found a renewed joy in preparing our healthy meals together at home.

We stopped attending the high volume of events we had historically attended in our community. That one effort afforded us significantly increased unstructured time together. Now, when my husband and I do attend an event, it's a special experience — not just part of the weekly grind. Although no longer attending all of their activities, we continue to support those same charitable organizations with our monetary gifts and volunteer time.

With each healthy decision we've made, regardless of what society would suggest as a so-called successful lifestyle, our happiness has increased.

Eventually, Larry and I changed careers after evaluating how much income we needed for our living expenses. We determined it was more important to have time to do the things that had meaning to us as individuals and as a couple. Now, our lives are more intentional. Instead of bumping haphazardly into each other after hours of work, meetings, and events, we now have time to take long walks, pursue hobbies together, and discuss subjects of mutual interest in depth. We read aloud to each other. We have more time to volunteer. We get together with our friends more often.

For me, abundance is achieved through purpose, passion, and living a meaningful life, regardless of the size of my paycheck or the number of rungs climbed on the corporate ladder. It means being vigilant about my definition of success so I always remember that I don't need much to be happy.

A happy, grateful life is a successful life. It's a discovery of joy through simplicity, love, and generosity. If you remember that, you'll always feel successful.