Sunday, October 14, 2007

never say goodbye ...

There’s a saying I like that’s really true: One cannot seek new horizons if one is afraid to leave the safety of the shore.

With that in mind, I’ve hedged on something all week. Should I, shouldn’t I? Why? Why not?

It all started when I answered five questions from Ian Lidster. And simultaneously read a post on KJ's new blog. And another by Kiyotoe. Then one of my closest friends left Seattle to begin a new life in Florida. Sometimes it takes just a little nudge to get us to regroup, recommit, or re-assess.

Whatever you call it, all three posts sparked that flame that flickers deep inside and I realized I’d been coasting, living in a very cushy comfort zone—something I knew intrinsically, but not a state I like to be in for too long.

I need to step it up, and step on out!

Won’t bore you with the details of my life, but as a result of this, I’ve made significant changes and have the opportunity to really stretch myself. And … most importantly (!) … I want to (choose to!) get away from the keyboard more.
So last month I hired a personal trainer to get me reconditioned over the next few grey months. I want to learn to ski ‘properly’ this winter. I also want to master that darn snowboard once and for all; and go snow-mobiling and snow shoeing—without getting stuck in a drift!

To gain a better balance on my work and personal life, I need to create more creative space and time. That means letting go of, or subtracting, certain other roles and activities, most of which I can't/won't mention here for obvious reasons.

So it’s with much ambivalence, my bloggy-buds, that I sing “So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodbye” … at least for now.

Blogging was something I thought I’d do for a couple of months—and even though I was by no means a prolific blogger compared to most of you, 18 months later it’s like leaving the comfort of a home you’ve lived in for a while to move to a new town. Sad to be leaving, but excited about the journey and new challenges and opportunities ahead.

I hadn't expected to ‘meet’ such wonderful, warm, funny, wise and incredibly smart and talented people. So, thanks for the timely kick in the pants! Thanks to those who've left comments on-blog and off-blog.

And thanks to all of you who’ve made me laugh, learn, and cry by sharing your skills, experiences, and life-journeys.

Bibi’s come to the end of her Beat for a while … but I hope you’ll stay in touch …

Love and hugs x

P.S. I have withdrawal symptoms already.

Saturday, October 06, 2007


5.30 a.m. … 30 minutes until the alarm goes off. I roll onto my stomach, bury my face in the pillow and groan. If I doze now, it’ll be harder to wake again … I roll back and throw off the duvet. Four steps and I’m in the bathroom.

I hear my dog pad up the hallway, signaled by the hum of my electric toothbrush. He yawns, stretches, waits patiently outside the bedroom door … is she or isn’t she? I duck into my closet and reappear in sneakers and running pants … she is!

Whispering good morning to him, I slip his collar over his head, and we step outside into the silence of early autumn fog.

Two-hundred steps and we’re on the beach. “Morning ladies!” I greet the Canadian Geese as I walk through the gaggle at the water’s edge. “Any good gossip today?” As usual, they stick their noses in the air and turn their backs on me.

Pebbles crunch underfoot as I stretch out up the beach throwing sticks into the water for Dylan. We climb up and over the rocks to our usual meditation spot, where we each take up our position.

He sits upright in the water, looking yonder for signs of anything unusual. I sit cross-legged on the 30-foot tree trunk that long-ago crashed from the hill above, and now spans across the beach and into the water. I close my eyes, circle my thumb and forefinger and take a deep, cleansing breath.

Sometimes I meditate on a specific topic. But this morning I think about nothing. Just the sound of my breath. Just the sound of lapping water. Just the sound of wind rustling through the trees and the brittle leaves they are preparing to shed.

In and out. Calming and cleansing.

I am grateful for this day.

I am grateful for my family and friends and appreciate having them in my life. I’m grateful for the interesting projects I work on and appreciate the opportunities I have. I’m grateful to feel excited by life and appreciate the choices I can make.

In ... out. I am grateful for this day.

Namaste …

… WHAT THE *!@#?

I shoot forward off my perch, reaching around to my lower back. Ack … it’s wet!

Really, really, sorry about that! Bad boy!” shouts the sleepy-eyed man with bed-hair, who stands red-faced on top of the cliff behind me.

No worries” I reply. But didn't mean it. Bad enough I have to scoop poop. Now I have to search my pockets for a tissue and dry off the spray his Labrador squirted up my back!

In ... I smile … Out. And mean it.

I am grateful for this day.