Twenty years ago this year, I moved from Salt Lake City, Utah to east Tennessee.  For me, it was a bit of a challenging move.  For all its conservativeness, the culture of Salt Lake was balanced by an open-minded contingency of people.  There were lots of yoga studios, drumming circles, alternative approaches to mental and spiritual well-being.  I fit in.

I had a thriving practice and active social life.  When I moved to east Tennessee (remember this was in the days before the internet) there was one yoga studio and I could not easily find like-minded people.  I was afraid of being professionally rejected.  Being rejected as a psychotherapist meant that I would not be able to practice.  Not being able to help people release emotional pain and fall in love with themselves and life would have broken my heart.

A part of me went into the closet a little bit.  I was not fully conscious of this then.  I just knew that my clinical training was not at all like most other practitioners and my way of viewing the world was quite different.  It was clear that I was “not from around here.”  That’s really not such a problem, not being from somewhere. My early and teen years were spent as an army brat.  So I was always “not from around” where ever I was.  What was a problem was my not knowing how fully stand in my skills and understanding about personal growth and spiritual evolution while simultaneously building a psychotherapy and later coaching practice in a community where meditation was perceived as evil.

So, I shut a part of me away in the closet.  I wasn’t even conscious of doing this.  Part of me was afraid, so I hid a bit.  Even now, writing this, it’s a little unnerving.  For, I am aware of feeling small hints of the lingering fear of rejection.  But the truth is I allow for a fuller expression of who I AM when I liberate myself from fear in all of its manifestations.  That’s true of all of us.  I’m no different.

Coming out of the closet professionally is one more step in dismantling fear.  Twenty years ago, rejection meant that I would not be able to build a psychotherapy practice.  So, I unconsciously chose to restrict myself out of fear. That’s ok. Now, I think that’s just how it unfolded and it was perfect.

The short story of all of this is that I am coming out of the closet, so watch for some changes on this site. A client recently pointed out to me that she couldn’t really see the fullness of what I do expressed on my website.  Though clients for whom I am a perfect fit have found their way to me and have trusted me with their hearts.  Yet, you wouldn’t fully be able to grasp the depth of what I offer if you just poked around on this site.  Time to change that.

For instance, though I mention retreats, I don’t think that there’s any way anyone could know the richness of spiritual transformation that happens on these retreats. So, I’m coming out of the closet and will be attempting to more clearly articulate what I offer.  Stay tuned.

In the meantime, are there ways that you are hiding?  What parts of you are you keeping in the closet out of fear?  I think about the small ways that some of us hide and am reminded of the tremendous hiding that some of our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters endure.  Their courage inspires me.  If you want to get inspired to come out of the closet a little, join me and let’s take a lesson from our courageous brothers and sisters.   Check out It Gets Better.

On Saturday, I had the great good fortune to spend time with about 10 women who were keen to learn how to Take Yoga off the Mat for the Holidays.  I shared tools and tips with them about how to let go of the stress associated with the holidays and how to untangle from the tyranny of expectations.

One woman shared that part of her intention for being there was to set a strong intention for how she wanted to be during the holidays.

This is such an important lesson.  When you know how you want to be, you can use that feeling state as a reference point, as a kind of beacon.  When you know where you are heading, it’s much easier to see when you’ve gone off course, and make any course corrections needed to get yourself back in line with your goal.

I intend to cultivate lightheartedness during the holidays.  What about you?  What kind of state do you want to cultivate?  Seriously, post a comment and share your intentional goal.  Put it out there.  Together we can create some kind of wonderful.  Imagine the mosaic of jeweled qualities secretly shining in people all around the world.  It makes me think of the heart-openingly beautiful stained glass I’ve seen.  Imagine our hearts shining with the multi-colors of our best qualities…lighthearted, peaceful, loving, joyous, playful, gentle, grateful, compassionate … the jewels of our hearts sublime qualities compile a long list.

It’s one thing to make a commitment to the kind of state you want to play in for a period of time.  It’s another thing to COMMIT to restoring your state when you’ve gone off course.  How will you course correct?  By that I mean, what are you going to DO to return to you intentional state of being?  Alternatively, how will you cultivate your chosen state?

These are real questions.  Scroll to the top and comment to share you wisdom!  Let’s think of this as a kind of virtual gift exchange — share what you know and help others create the kind of holiday that will nurture their spirit while letting their heart’s jewels shine.

P.S.  Don’t miss out on my next retreat!  Register before December 15th for the early bird discount.

Last weekend, I had a blast!  I got to spend the weekend in the gorgeous Smoky Mountains facilitating a women’s weekend retreat.  Nature, in Her glory, mirrored the multi-colored brilliance of these amazing women.  Together, we explored the theme of fully embracing the unique beauty and magnificence that is each of us while learning a powerful tool for releasing the pain of our past relationships.

In this confluence of letting go of the past while embracing one’s own magnificence I find a delicious taste of the freedom available to each of us.  This is the kind of freedom that allows one to live fully – - – TODAY.  I think that as long as I am holding on to old hurts and resentments, it is nigh to impossible (is that a real phrase???) to attune to the Presence in the present.

On the retreat, I set up a rope labyrinth in a field of moss.  With candles scattered about the labyrinth and the crisp mountain air shimmering in golden leaves, it felt magical.  As we approached the labyrinth, I shared with the group some thoughts about how they might walk the labyrinth.  Inviting them to align themselves with the intention of releasing the past and opening to the present, I encouraged them to maintain silence to support them in their walk.

The moment felt all together holy.  The silence was lush and the mountains felt still.  Suddenly, from the top of the hill, a young man called down to us. “DO Y’ALL WANT ME TO LEAVE A STARTER LOG FOR YOU BY THE FIRE?”  His young voice rang out through the silent holiness striking me as very funny.

Couldn’t he see we were having “a moment?”  And so what?  Moments come and go.  Life is more like a river than a pond.  So what good would it have done for us to cling to the previous moment of silence?  Such clinging would have only produced frustration and annoyance ~ separating us from ourselves, each other, and the young man.  What fun is that?

I hollered back, with a high thumbs up, “THAT’D BE GREAT!”

Later, we reflected on what the labyrinth taught us.  It was a beautiful experience of recognizing the brilliance of Leo Tolstoy’s 3 Questions in play:

What is the best time to do each thing?

Who are the most important people to work with?

What is the most important thing to do at all times?

In that moment, the best time to respond to the young man was in the moment.  The most important person to work with, the young man – in that moment.  The most important thing to do, respond to the young man – in that moment.  Are we seeing a theme here?

Later that night, we enjoyed a warm and inviting fire in the firepit.  Thanks for the starter log, Taylor!