 I watched a rather confronting documentary about dying after a friend recommended it. Death has much to teach us about life, and I am always an interested student on that topic.
It was a western man interviewing an old friend of his, they had both travelled far from the urban life of their childhood, and over the years his friend – a wise scholar and sage – had increasingly immersed himself in traditional indigenous thinking and practices and earned the name Griefwalker for the role he played in helping people to die well. While the riddles of many of the indigenous stories are not my favoured path of learning, I understood the sentiment with which they were spoken. We shy away from death, we sanitize it and we fear it, yet it is a part of life. As a flower will bloom and then fade, so do we, each stage having its own challenges and beauty. Many barely have a grasp on life, feeling like ‘someday’ they will have their time in the sun, so death seems cruel, a punishment. Yet when my great aunt died recently, I could feel what a welcome release death has to offer when the body is both sated and weary. But she was one of a minority these days that recognise death in its approach, and welcome it in. In the documentary, a couple said farewell to their young child, who had been kept alive only by medical treatments – every treatment and surgery was exhausted and she was now being kept alive with constant blood transfusions. Griefwalker asked them whether they thought these transfusions were strengthening or depleting her, the man narrating referred to her as having joined the list of those officially not allowed to die. The couple stopped the transfusions and took their 2 year old home. And so she died well, not surrounded by machines and strangers, but by having some time out in nature, and at home in the arms of her parents. Western medicine and its approach is limited to fixing problems, but the underlying premise is that disease, injuries and death are unwelcome. Yet all have a part to play in our life here, all point to burdens we carry and can let go of if only we knew how to live well. To live well is not to fear death, but to be grateful for the life we are living, including all the things that feel bad at the time, and live it to its fullest. That includes being the fullness of who you are. Dancing to the beat of your own drum, hearing the beat of your own drum and its insights, and knowing that your dance is a good one, an amazing one that will forever change you and the people and world around you in ways unforeseen, that is the fullness of life. To cower in the shadows of others’ opinions, to remain frozen in fear or fierce in defense, that is a life not even half lived. To know that life will present you challenges but that you will handle everything as you always have and always will do, and that everything always work out for the better, that is to face life head on. Death, death is nothing but the transformation to something else. Here, in this life, you could call it transformation to a memory, or a legacy, transformation to dust. This is what many fear the most, that the memory will fall short, that the legacy – if there is one – falls far from the mark in their ideal state. The regret turns to a life half lived, dancing to the beat of another’s drum. But you, you are not dead. Yes you are dying, that is the paradox of life. If you have breath in you, you are still living and you can still find the joy that resides in being brave enough to be you, fully you, to seek your truth, to speak your truth and to feel love for yourself beyond any you feel for any other. To understand and forgive yourself for ever being unkind or feeling less than worthy, to know that you are enough and to know that there is enough for everyone to do and be anything they really want. This is life. To see the atrocities and be as thankful for those in the world as you are for the cherry blossoms and miracles that occur every day, is to have the wisdom to know that life and death, that joy and sorrow, and wellbeing and pain, are all players in the same game. Without one the other cannot exist. Knowing I’ve helped in some way through my writing means a lot - I’d love for you to like, comment on, or share these thoughts with others, or contact me directly at shona@shonakeachie.com, I’m always happy to help if I can. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also subscribe to my newsletter and, as a special thank you, you will receive the link to my video 3 Steps to Becoming You.
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 “Do you ever worry about all the suffering in the world?” the kind looking gentleman asked me after introducing his besuited grandson. These strangers stood at my door, the older man holding leaflets in his hand. “No” I replied with a smile.
“No? It doesn’t worry you?” he looked at me as if quite stunned. “No” I reaffirm, “If I worry about all the suffering, I just add more energy to it; I can’t help those suffering if I join that club of worriers.” The man looked at me, “yes I suppose that is true” he said, thrusting the leaflet in my hand. “Take this anyway” he smiled and quickly ushered away his grandson who stood a few steps behind him. “Really?” I thought “is that their angle to start a discussion about finding God?” I’ve always been one to call a spade a spade, call out the elephant in the room, but let’s not wallow in it. Call it out to dispel the fear. This week I was offered the chance to pick up the Cloud Cuckoo Palace Lego set. While the Lego Movie isn’t one my young kids are even aware of, I indulged anyway. A few years back, one of the more significant (and fun) pieces of work I ever spent time on in the corporate arena leveraged that very movie. I could call it ‘the transformation that almost was’ as it didn’t get it’s time in the sun due to – ironically – micromanagement, ego and fear. We were working on an inward culture change in order to significantly lift the morale and the customer experience, with the added benefit of efficiency. I was working with the guy who looked after about a third of all the company’s staff, mainly call centre based, he was a visionary and he too was happy to call out the elephant in the room. Emmet’s journey in the Lego Movie was such a parody of life in that part of the company, I was inspired to use clips from it edited into a video interview I did with the leader. Given the demographic of the staff and the company’s brand culture, I knew it would have great cut through. Using humour to say “we know this is what it’s like and we recognise there’s more in you and we want to make things better” was the right thing to do. While there were significant parts of the programme of transformation that did happen, like leadership assessment and development, momentum popped like a balloon as large amounts of the follow up work never got off the ground and others were swept under the carpet, the leader ‘left’ and much of the work now sits in the Philippines. So I chose Cloud Cuckoo Land, it’s much nicer. Though there is one difference, there is no “stuffing down of negative feelings” in my world, that leads to some nasty side effects. Earlier this week I was listening to some authors talking about a programme they’ve developed called “Shadow Work”. While I don’t think their video was a great introduction, a bit too much wallowing in the suffering seemed to be going on, I like the expression. Shadows are only cast in light, yet many live among them constantly. They accept the shadows as their truth, fearing that if they walk out into the sun they will be burnt. Fear is created in the minds of people and, just like in the Lego Movie, perpetuated in society, systems and government. It is perhaps a mix of well and ill intention but, regardless, fear is not welcome in Cloud Cuckoo Land. We should never be scared of the shadows, without fear they serve more to sharpen our focus on the type of person we wish to be and the type of world we want to live in. This year I have watched as someone close to me has been faced with their own shadow. A shadow common in our society, cancer. It is interesting that our bodies produce cancer cells all the time, yet in some people they can lead to such suffering at specific points in life. Years of stuffing down emotions, perhaps putting the needs of others before their own, living in fear rather than in love for ourselves, manifests as these devastating diseases. The body’s last attempt to wake us up, to relieve itself of the burdens it unnecessarily carries. For me, this translates to a different kind of shadow. In the last few years I’ve become better and more attuned to reading the energy that surrounds us. When people are looking for answers, they evoke their own solutions but often they hold themselves from those answers as they sit in fear in the shadows. When someone asks “Why me? I didn’t ask for this” I hear an answer. Often it’s not a question they have asked outright, more of an anguished cry within. So being in possession of an answer that someone hasn’t directly asked me can be weird, and I will usually share what I hear but tell them just to take what resonates. I want to help, to sooth, but when someone you love doesn’t want to hear, well, that is a shadow right there. Accepting another’s right to choose is fundamental in my book, yet the desire for me to help, to sooth, remains. I do not feel good in that shadow, but I see that it is there and it teaches me about my own choices. I do not stay in that shadow for long, I thrive in Cloud Cuckoo land and I know it’s from there the right inspiration will come to me to help ease suffering where I can. Yes there are some stinking situations in this world, yet you can still choose to live in one that focuses on magnifying the many wonderful aspects within and around us and focusing on creating more of that and wondering what can be. That world, the one that some call Cloud Cuckoo Land, is where many of our most inspired contributors have come from, from inventors to composers, artists to the various spiritual teachers upon whom world religions have become founded, and even business people and doctors and scientists. Given the choice is mostly in our own hearts and head, Cloud Cuckoo Land is the one I choose to live in anytime. Knowing I’ve helped in some way through my writing means a lot - I’d love for you to like, comment on, or share these thoughts with others, or contact me directly at shona@shonakeachie.com, I’m always happy to help if I can. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also subscribe to my newsletter and, as a special thank you, you will receive the link to my video 3 Steps to Becoming You.  “Do not touch that!” I screech at Jenna, looking at the pop-up that appears on my screen asking whether I really want to discard the email I had been drafting. I have a vague awareness of the crestfallen look on her face as she slinks beneath the keyboard on the desk where I am busily focused.
At this precise moment I am driven by a desire to sort out an issue with the telephone supplier, wanting to hand off the details to someone with the power to action them, before taking the kids to school. This sense of urgency I feel is conflicted with the need to fully focus on the kids at this time of day. As I press send on the email awareness returns to my surroundings. “Oh Jenna” I say, she’s still under the keyboard looking glum, “I’m sorry; mum was a bit grumpy then huh?” She slumps into my arms for a cuddle, and then I refocus on the task at hand, fleetingly thinking that perhaps I should have just left the email until later. This may seem minor in the scheme of things, and it is, but I could recount many examples in each day where I am somewhat distracted and growl at the kids, or my partner, or inwardly (mostly) to anyone else who happens to interrupt wherever my attention is focused; I like to get things done. The world of handy devices makes it so much easier to multi-task, except we aren’t actually wired to focus on more than one thing at a time. It can’t make for a very nice experience of being with me at those times I’m sure. Each week as I sit down to write these articles, it’s always to reflect and share what’s inspiring me in the moment, always linked to the lessons I’m learning. When I read them to my partner he says “they all sound the same to me, different circumstances, but you’re saying the same thing”. True, the basis of a happy life is simple, think good things, feel good things, and more good things will come to you. “Yes, “I say “I need to keep writing about it to drum it in.” The problem is, imperfection. At birth we arrive in our complete perfection, knowing it, then life (in the guise of often well-meaning people) sharpens our edges and we grow into adulthood with fears, insecurities and a lack of self worth. We humans are a bit clunky at all that for now. Loving ourselves in all our humanness is one of our biggest challenges; even knowing ourselves is a challenge. There are so many versions of us; certainly there’s the happy, inspired version and then there’s the version under stress, when we are far from our best. These days that super stressed version of me isn’t around as much as it used to be, but it certainly presents itself often enough to remind me it exists. In the past I’d likely even have lacked the awareness that I’d hurt Jenna’s feelings, the little 4-year old who just wanted some of her mum’s attention, far less apologised. It’s more likely that my mood would have spiraled in self righteous indignation at having been constantly interrupted – and included more yelling at the kids about them not being ready. We expect so much of ourselves, and certainly there’s nothing wrong for aspiring to be the best version of who you are, but you have to cut yourself a break. I find myself dwelling on the things I could have done better, then I remind myself that those things have passed, and there is zero benefit to wallowing in any bad feelings about it. Then I feel bad that I even wallowed. As I say often, I am a most imperfect being, and thank goodness because it’s taught me some valuable lessons in life, heralded some magnificent opportunities and growth and reaped many rewards in that awareness. But I am quite sure I could embrace that imperfection without the constant beat up sessions. Perfection is the aspiration, imperfection is the inspiration. Like everything else in life though, it’s about the journey, not the destination. If I am trying to get things done and other things keep getting in the way, I know enough now to see it’s actually a sign that I just need to be more present, let the other stuff go until it can have my full focus. One thing at a time. So I am thankful for this morning’s distraction and imperfect parenting moment for reminding me that I do not need to get everything done all at once. We have not transcended our humanness and become superheroes. Embracing our imperfection in this way can only help lead us to our best lives. Knowing I’ve helped in some way through my writing means a lot - I’d love for you to like, comment on, or share these thoughts with others, or contact me directly at shona@shonakeachie.com, I’m always happy to help if I can. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also subscribe to my newsletter and, as a special thank you, you will receive the link to my video 3 Steps to Becoming You.  Regardless whether you believe in more or not
There is consensus in life joy is sought ‘Tis always there, though not always sensed In our hearts, too often fenced Shrouded in details that life has brought Leaving us – well - overwrought In later life all becomes clear A sensing of an ending near Time worrying is wasted indeed Let not regrets take seed Instead look into your heart And you will see, as from the start Your capacity for joy remains with you still And in each moment take your fill This one is dedicated to my gran, Joy, who took hers in spending the latter part of her life dancing to the beat of her own drum, silently teaching us the power of focusing only on the things you want in life and ignoring the rest.  I don’t know about you, but despite have an unfailingly optimistic attitude that everything comes right in the end, I seem to spend most of my days caught up in ‘stuff’.
Don’t get me wrong, there are things I make space for each week, when I make it my business to soak in and appreciate life as it is now and ponder what can be, like snatched walks along the beach, short daily meditations, weekly yoga and writing these articles. Yet, too often, the prevalent experience of my day can tend towards grind. Things like getting up and out each morning, listening to the kids argue, drafting quotes and invoices, getting washing done, tidying, just being the parent when the kids are tired and whiny at the end of the day, being stationed in the kitchen for (what feels like) endless hours and many things besides, it all seems like a distraction from the main event. Then when my partner comes home, I sometimes have this attitude of having survived something. Sound familiar? So what is this main event I think I’m missing? Sure, more cup-filling time and solitude would go down a treat, but really, it comes down to attitude. Switching from an attitude of resentment, all grumbling and grumpy, to one of gratitude is a bit of a trick and requires deliberate focus; like any new habit. If I look back, it’s easy to see in hindsight that the nasties life has thrown my way have always turned out to be blessings in disguise. From the heartache of being ditched by one that was loved to the challenges of illness and the deprivation felt in failed pregnancies, every cloud has had its silver lining. That’s the big stuff. What about all the humdrum day to day guff that we all just have to get on and deal with? Well, it’s a funny thing, I look back and really struggle to remember most of it. I’m quite sure my life in the decades up until now would have consisted of multiples upon multiples of daily tasks and experiences, that I would have had my energy all wrapped up in for most of the time, yet they are so inconsequential I struggle to remember. It’s not even that I have no conscious recollection of them, the bigger surprise is that the emotional resonance is, well, not there. Fast forward to the present day, that tells me that I’m wasting energy angsting when instead I have an opportunity. Sure, it could be an opportunity to focus on bringing a housekeeper, personal assistant and nanny into my future but, if I’m honest, it’s not that bad and I kind of want to stay in the driving seat for most of it. That tells me there is a payback in there and when I start to unpack it a bit more, I realise it’s a healthy payback, so I need to start focusing on the positive aspects rather than the negative ones. If I was feeding something unhealthy, well then I’d go back and read my own thoughts on breaking out of my comfort zone, but this is about changing my habits in terms of the way I view these things. Another way of putting it could be putting my big girl undies on and see these things as first world problems to really prod me out of a pity party. The truth is, I do feel a sense of privilege when it comes to my life and my kids. I’m exactly where I want to be in order to be the kind of mum I want to be. To be in the driving seat of example setting is a privilege and a responsibility, so I need to take responsibility for my own attitude and stop fighting against something I’m actually wanting. Sure, I can relook at each of the tasks I’ve put in the drudge basket and question whether they are actually serving me, or if I’ve created some kind of expectation around them I need to drop, and I will; but mostly it’s just a dawning that nothing good in life is as sweet as when there’s a challenge behind it, and sometimes that challenge is just about being grateful for the small stuff. Just like the surfers who patiently await the right swells, who spend endless days waiting for the right conditions and then hours floating on the ocean in order to catch a handful of satisfying waves, I remind myself that life is just a series of moments. Without the day to day in between, we could not create such moments. In each of these small, seemingly inconsequential, instances where our thoughts are ticking over, we are observing, learning and adapting. We inch forwards and then we have breakthroughs. The day to day grind that I was referring to is indeed something I am learning to be thankful for. It’s like the carver chipping away at a block of wood, slowly, slowly, a new shape emerges. The biggest gift I can be thankful for is our ability to create our own experiences. We have the gift of thought, and we can choose good ones or bad ones. Bad ones will yield more bad experiences, good ones will yield more good experiences. Simple really. For that, I am truly thankful. Knowing I’ve helped in some way through my writing means a lot - I’d love for you to like, comment on, or share these thoughts with others, or contact me directly at shona@shonakeachie.com, I’m always happy to help if I can. To be the first to receive these posts, you can also subscribe to my newsletter and, as a special thank you, you will receive the link to my video 3 Steps to Becoming You. |
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