HeARTful-Adventures

Retreat Coach Network

2009-01-28T23:27:00.000-08:00

It is so fantastic to have a passion driven occupation! I get to have deep conversations with interesting women. I am invited to partner with women moving in the direction of their dreams. I am honored to be a sounding board for women who need to be heard. I love what I do because I help breathe new life into your life.

As a Retreat Life Coach I'm part of a very special community. It is truly amazing to be part of a profession that is all about encouragement, inspiration and guidance. Please use this resource to find a retreat coach in your area, you'll be glad you did!

What Forgivness Means to Me

2008-03-13T14:50:00.000-07:00

"Unforgiveness is like drinking poison

and waiting for the other person to die."

My Experience of Forgiveness

I believe that, ultimately, forgiveness is at once a selfish and humbling process, for both the giver and the receiver. I believe it is a supernatural act as well, one empowered very specifically by Grace. (More on that later.)

Since I embrace Christian spirituality, one reason I’m convinced of the above statement is this: God loves me so much that He cannot stand being separated from me by my sin. He made a way, through Christ, for me to receive forgiveness because He loves me and wants to be near me. I am forgiven for HIS sake, because of what HE needs/wants (intimacy with me), He forgives me.

It’s Me on the Line - Giving Forgiveness

When we go fishing and catch “the big one,” we start to reel in the big fish, and it’s fighting like mad --- tugging and writhing on the line. In life, the one who wounded me is the one who’s fishing. I’m the fish, stuck on a line I can’t get free of no matter how hard I struggle. Forgiveness is the fish taking the line out of its own mouth and swimming away. (Side note: It's painful to remove the hook, but not as painful as leaving it there.)

When I am offended and forgive, the foremost benefit is to be set free. I believe that I have sometimes gotten hung-up on forgiving because I don’t want to let those who offend me off the hook. At those times, I have it backwards. I am the one on the hook and it is up to me to admit the hook is there and remove it. Sometimes I forgive magnanimously, yet deep down I know it is festering, I have only minimized, not forgiven. Other times I forgive grudgingly, still harboring bitterness in my heart, and soon it is obvious that the hook is still firmly set. And sometimes I simply can’t admit that the other person may have done something bad to me. I’d rather be “bad” than them.

Whether I take one of the above meandering paths, or whether I take a more direct route, all the paths lead to this: Finally, I humble myself. I pray to be made willing to be willing. Usually my prayer goes something like this, “I do not have it in myself to forgive this offense/offender, please give me YOUR forgiveness for this…” and those are the moments when Divinity meet humanity and I am freed from the hook.

It’s Still Me on the Line – Seeking Forgiveness

When I am the offender and I seek forgiveness I sometimes struggle to accept and receive forgiveness. Sometimes it can be harder to apply forgiveness to myself than to those who offend me. I am reminded again that thinking “I’m too bad” (to deserve forgiveness) is the flip side of “I’m too good” (I don’t need forgiveness). They are both pride. My dilemma often comes down to admitting either 1) “I’m not so good” or 2) “I’m not so bad”. I can take the judgment out of the statements by just simply admitting “I’m human, I made a mistake.”

Here again, the effectiveness of the process is based on the degree to which I recognize the hook. I can’t take the hook out if I don’t admit that it’s there. I must be willing to look squarely and honestly at the offense and take responsibility for my part. Also, I often must pray, “I’m having a hard time receiving forgiveness, please help me….” and those are the moments when Divinity meet humanity and I am freed from the hook.

Specially Targeted Supernatural Grace -

When offended by someone, supernatural grace is available very specifically to me. When I have offended someone else, supernatural grace is available very specifically to me. This grace is like a heat-seeking missile attracted to me when I am seeking the process of forgiveness, drawn in to empower me with what is needed for freedom, love and healing.

Without this supernatural grace it is impossible for me to either give or receive true forgiveness. Without this amazing grace it is impossible to even experience the first part of my forgiveness process. Only grace makes it possible for me to get close enough to the offense to see it and feel it for what it is/was. Only this grace makes it possible for me to even be open to seeking divine help to be set free.

Beware of hooked fish syndrome:
Denial “Hook, what hook?”
Minimizing “It’s only a small hook.”
Blaming “It’s not my hook.”
Victim “I’m hooked, I’m so ashamed.”
Justification “I’m the one who bit the hook.”
Isolation “Leave me alone, I’m hooked.”

Don’t Take the Bait –

One trap that I recognize and avoid is that of being offended for someone else. If someone I care about is offended and I take the bait and nurture offense and bitterness in my heart towards the offender, I am trapped. I am trapped in my bitterness and there is no supernatural grace for me to give forgiveness because I am not the one offended. I have seen this time and time again in my life and the lives of others. The only way out of the trap is to SEEK forgiveness for harboring bitterness.

Wow -
As I think of it now, either way it is a chicken-and-the-egg experience, because in order to be in the presence of loving Divinity I must be in a constant forgiveness process, and I cannot truly experience the forgiveness process unless I’m in the presence of loving Divinity.

My process of forgiveness:

Recognize
Ask for Supernatural Grace.
Admit my limited ability to give and/or receive forgiveness and ask for
Supernatural Forgiveness.
Look squarely at the offense.
Name it clearly for what it is and what it isn’t.

Confess
Speak aloud and name the offense.
Speak aloud my intent to forgive or be forgiven.
Speak aloud my intention to be free.
Speak aloud against shame and condemnation.
Speak aloud for freedom and forgiveness.
Speak aloud for trust.
Speak aloud for freedom, love and healing.

Repent
If I am the offender, I make a clear intent that I will turn away from the offensive behavior. I will not knowingly continue to offend.
If I am the offended, I make a clear intent that I will turn away from bitterness and un-forgiveness.

I turn towards freedom, towards love, towards healing.

Receive
I give thanks for Supernatural Grace.
I give thanks for Supernatural Forgiveness.
I give thanks for freedom, for love, for healing.
I apply thanksgiving whenever any thought or memory that is contrary to walking in forgiveness tries to squeeze in to my head/heart.

For One Brief Shining Moment

2007-09-13T12:48:00.000-07:00

For one brief shining moment I was "The Most Fun Grandma Ever" … and then the paint wouldn’t come out of their hair.

Left to Right: Friend, Grandchildren: Jonathan (7) Lilly (3) Josoph (9)

I went and spent several days with my grandchildren. One day we decided to do body painting. I went to Walmart and bought inexpensive, water based acrylic paints. The plan was to start with the oldest kids first, paint everyone quickly, take pictures and then get everyone washed off.

We let the kids choose their colors and patterns. My daughter Melissa and I worked together to paint the kids. It was a blast! The kids had so much fun telling us how to paint them and posing for pictures. By the time we were done with pictures, the paint had begun to crack and peel off the skin of the kids first painted.

Unfortunately, when my grandson Josoph (first painted, first in the shower) went to wash off, we discovered that acrylic paint, once it has dried in the hair, is NOT water soluble.

This is when “The Most Fun Grandma Ever” fell from grace. (Note to self: Buy some wacky wigs and spray on hair color to use the next time I do any body painting.)

I placed an emergency call to a girlfriend and had her do a Google search for how to remove acrylic paint from the hair. When she stopped laughing at me, she told me that the two methods mentioned were to use rubbing alcohol or vodka. How about rubbing alcohol for the hair and vodka to drink while I scrub and hope and pray that it works?

The little girl with the purple face and pink hair had a party to attend the next day with her extended family. Her hair is thick and naturally curly. Let’s just say that her mom wasn’t real happy with me. I removed a lot with rubbing alcohol and then her mom took a brush to her hair to get the rest out.

The boys weren’t so bad, because their hair is short. Lilly, however, was a whole different story. Her hair is long and baby fine. After working on it off and on for a day, I gave up and called a hair salon and asked if they would help. I went in armed with a gallon of vodka (less smelly than the rubbing alcohol, but also less effective) and several bottles of rubbing alcohol. I gratefully paid the patient beautician $20 to help me get the paint out of Lilly’s hair. She was able to be more aggressive in her scrubbing than grandma. Lilly was really a champ! I kept getting her to take deep breaths to stay calm when the process threatened to get overwhelming. Finally, the paint was (mostly) gone from her hair.

Hopefully, when my grandkids look at the pictures, they will not remember the trauma of paint trapped in their hair, but their summer moment with The Most Fun Grandma Ever.

Dance Like You're Dancing for Someone You Love

2007-08-01T14:16:00.001-07:00

I was flipping through TV channels one night and stopped on “Dancing with the Stars.” What caught my attention was that Laila Ali, daughter of boxer Muhammad Ali, was one of the dancers.

It so happened that her father was in the audience that night. It was obviously a physical strain for him to be there, yet he wanted to be present to watch his daughter dance. Before dancing, Laila talked about what it meant to her to have her father present. She was so excited to have him see her dance and obviously wanted him to be proud of her.

There was something especially poignant about Laila’s dancing that night. The dance floor seemed charged with emotion and meaning as I witnessed both her beautiful dancing and the joy and pride shining from her father’s face as he watched her. The great boxer had tears in his eyes and his face glowed for his daughter.

I attended a wedding a couple of years ago where the bride danced for the groom as part of the wedding ceremony. As a guest it was an incredibly intimate moment to share with this couple. The bride glowed as she moved gracefully for her groom, love and intention communicated through every movement, through every beat of the music, every word of the song. The dance was truly for him and him alone, the rest of us may as well have disappeared. Somehow, though, the dance was also a public declaration, a public celebration. The guests at the wedding were witnesses of the giving and receiving of a very personal gift. To watch the groom’s face as he beheld his bride, as he received this gift of dance from her, oh, it was a wondrous thing!

The tradition of the bride and groom’s first dance is an extension of this concept. They publicly share their first dance as husband and wife, dancing together joyfully and proudly; their parents, sisters, brothers, cousins, and friends looking on with pride.

I have begun to explore this concept. How does it change my private dance, my attitude about my body and dancing, when I dance as though I am dancing for someone I love? I never danced with my father, at least not that I can remember. He died when I was nineteen. I have never danced for my husband; with him, sure, but not for him. He’s still around, so I have no excuse, except for my own bashfulness.

I have an innate desire to make my father proud. So, to imagine dancing for my father is very powerful for me. The emotions are many when I dance like I am dancing for/with my father. Contributing to the depth of these emotions is the fact that I had only a short time with him.

Thankfully, I have a positive relationship with God as my Father, and so I can experience dancing for – and with - my Father in that way. This makes for a very powerful dancing experience. It is dancing as an act of communion, worship and gratitude.

I honestly never thought, until just this moment, about dancing for my mother. Not sure why this hasn’t every crossed my mind before now. My gut feeling is that dancing for my mother would be with the intention of celebrating her as a woman and mother, and what she has given me as her daughter.

As far as dancing for my husband, well, I will meet that challenge at least once, sooner or later. I’m going to have to ease into it, though. And this is certainly interesting to ponder. Why would it be so challenging for me to dance for my husband? My goodness, we’ve been married for 23 years and together for 27. He’s certainly seen me at my best, my worst and everywhere in between. Yet, there is something incredibly intimate and …scary, exciting, weird, silly, strange, wonderful … to think of dancing for him.

To be honest, at this point in my private dancing experience, I can honestly say it is a unique experience – and a bit of a personal stretch - just to dance LIKE I’m dancing for someone I love, let alone actually doing it. I am loving the personal growth that is springing from the act of “dancing like” and that is okay for me for now. I’ve given myself permission to imagine it out, whether I ever act it out for real or not. (Side note: Sometimes I think we limit our imaginative experiences because we think that they must be made real at some point in order to have value. Ah, I sense a future blog entry here…)

Dance like you’re dancing for someone you love. It will touch your heart in ways you may never imagine.

Sharing the journey,
Kelly

Dance Like You're Dancing with a Friend

2007-08-01T13:06:00.000-07:00

After my post “Dance Like No One is Watching” a friend of mine shared that she was inspired to dance naked in the tanning booth. So often when I’m dancing I think of her and know that there is a friend I’m dancing with.

One of my morning rituals, when my schedule allows, is to watch at least the first 15 minutes of the Ellen Degeneres show in the morning. Ellen makes me smile and laugh out loud. And every morning, I dance with Ellen.

I’ve experienced being in a room of people who are all dancing, yet each person maintained an individual expression. It is hard to explain exactly; each person was dancing privately though we were all in the same room. Or at least that was my experience. At that time, dance seemed to be a kind of physical meditation of a personal nature; a way to get in touch with one’s body. It was not so much intended to be a group exercise or interaction, though we were all dancing “together”. This, for me, falls under the category of “dance like no one is watching”. I look forward to exploring this experience further. It is not what I’m talkin’ about now, though.

Have you ever taken over the dance floor with a group of friends? No personal drama or relational entanglements to worry about, no mating ritual posturing, no couples pairing off, just a group of friends out for a good time. Remember dancing around with your friends, laughing and cutting loose and having fun? Remember how the shared energy and laughter just cultivated more and more enjoyment?

I’ve found that there is, for me, a different level of joy and abandon when I am dancing with a friend --- or friends. The experience of sharing the bliss of music and movement really gets me energized. I love it when I can dance together with other people who are also having fun dancing. I’m less self-conscious and more able to just let go and dance. I feel empowered and inspired and willing to really just move for the sheer joy of it.

Whether I’m actually with a friend, or thinking of a dancing friend, or dancing with Ellen on TV, I love the joy I get when I dance like I’m dancing with a friend.

Dance party anyone?

Hugs,
Kelly

What Will You See?

2007-04-12T13:43:00.000-07:00

Written 4/11/07
By Kelly Morrison

I’ve noticed that when traveling to new places I am especially enthralled visually to see so many new sights for the first time.

On a recent trip to Hawaii I took nearly 300 macro (super close-up) photos of plants and flowers and such. It seemed that every where I looked, my eyes beheld wonder and things I’d never seen before. I was tuned to the smallest detail and rejoiced in it, in awe of the infinite creativity of God. This nearly hyper-awareness seems to cause an unstoppable, organic response of gratitude. Little is taken for granted, because so much is actively noticed.

Years ago, I worked teaching students from Japan in the US for short-term home-stay programs. One of the things that I liked best about the job, is that by being with them as they experienced so many things for the first time, I saw my own world through new eyes. I vicariously participated in their wonder and surprise and new experiences. Things I saw every day and took for granted became new once again in my eyes.

What I’ve experienced since my return from Hawaii, is that if I will actually look for it, if I will open my perception, then I will see evidence of daily wonder all around me. I walk by the flowers near my door every day, several times, whenever I go in and out, with varying degrees of perception. I took the time, recently, to really stop and look at them. I grabbed my camera, turned on the macro, and searched for the small portions of beauty to be found in their petals. (By the way, I found it!)

Once, when spending a day shooting photographs, I came upon a huge area of somewhat unusual trash. It looked like someone had set up a large yard sale and then walked away and abandoned it all. The elements had not been kind, everything was drooping and water damaged, aged, repulsive and abandoned. As I walked through this dreary landscape of the castaway detritus of everyday life and snapped shots here and there, I surprised to find, yes, beauty and poignancy, in the midst of what basically amounted to a pile of garbage. (Side note: I do not want to miss the people and experiences in my life that appear to have no beauty, that seem, at first glance, ugly, damaged and repulsive. If I am open to it, even these will have lessons for me, beauty of some kind, and meaning born through my perception and experience.)

Sometimes I am separated from events/people by my camera. I’m so busy snapping pictures that I don’t truly participate/experience the moment. For some reason, doing the macro photography is working the opposite. I am feeling more connected to the world around me. More open to seeing beauty in unusual places. And, somehow, this is trickling over into my thinking. I am more open to believing that despite all evidence to the contrary, there will be some beauty/benefit to every experience/person, and if I look for it, I will see it, eventually.

The other thing I’m finding curious about this place I’m in right now, about looking closely in order to see, is that I’ve typically thought about pulling back in order to gain perspective. I would visually illustrate it by holding my little finger up right in front of my nose, then explain how it looks huge if my focus is on it, but if all I do is shift my focus to everything beyond the finger, it becomes small in comparison. It is quite interesting to find that these two principles, looking closely to see beauty and pulling back to gain perspective, are not mutually exclusive, but can indeed co-exist, even simultaneously.

Yesterday I heard a quote that really describes why both of these principles work:
“Our perception gathers evidence to prove that what we believe is right.”
Dr. Robert Holden

This is going to happen subconsciously if not intentionally. So why not choose my perception intentionally? I'm just beginning to grasp this and I love it!

Journey on, kind readers!
~K

Sunday, March 4th Tribute to My Friend

2007-04-05T18:23:00.000-07:00

These last two days have been very, very intense emotional days for me as well. I arrived home from a fantastic retreat to find that my loving dog, Kana, had suddenly become ill on Wednesday, and had grown increasingly more and more dehydrated and emaciated over the next three days. I was so shocked when I walked in the door! She looked so horrible, and her breathing was so labored. Mike took her to the vet and learned that she has a fast spreadingcancer, and her blood count is quite low. The vet expressed concerns that she wouldn't be able to take chemo, due to her age. In agony,we made the decision to have Kana put down. We just hated to see her suffer.

First, we took her to her favorite walking spot, a trail not too far from our home. It is a wide, open, meandering path, running partially along the backside of a housing development. It is quite acceptable for a well-mannered dog, such as Kana, to be able to enjoy a daily constitutional "off-leash". She absolutely revelled in peeing on critical spots along the trail, managing somehow to produce enough - or ration herself just right - to milk a few drops even at the very end of our brisk walk.

Kana's next favorite proclivity? Why, sniffing of course! This trail was a veritable buffet of scentsfor Kana to inhale and snuffle and huff up her nose. Oh, and we can't forget the bunnies! On very, very special days, as a special gift, we would encounter a bunny along the trail. Of course, Kana just knew that the bunny was there to invite her to a game of chase, and off they would go! (It is good to note here, that by mutualagreement, it was never, ever, a game of "catch"!)

Today my ever-unconditional loving, faithful, honest, aware, connection to my children's childhood, protector, friend ... could take only seven or eight steps up the trail before stopping and looking quietly up at us, her sides heaving with her breathes, her brown eyes shining, as ever, with loyalty and adoration born of the truest love...and also with peace. And so, then, we set her free. I've been crying nearly non-stop, in between sharing loving memoriesof Kana with Mike. I honestly haven't felt grief this deeply since my brother, Mark, who lived with us, passed away. I asked Mike if we could sit down together and have a remembrance of Kana. He is inviting our sons. They will be "at choice" and this is a new, peaceful feeling for me. This will be a good process, I believe.

One precept that the camp participants discussed this week was "PRONOIA". In simplified terms, this is adapting a perception of day to day life based on the belief that the "universe" is conspiring FOR you. (Opposite of paranoia.) I was trying to think pronoiacally (through my sobs) and what I came up with is this: I am so grateful that I shared my life with a creature who came to mean so much to me that I would grieve her loss so deeply.

Love the close ones in your life NOW.
Kelly