Dare to Blossom Life Coaching with Mary Lunnen

Reflections: Rest
From my archives: September titles poem
Events and ways to Dare to Blossom: 7/9 new six week programme, and 12/9 a stand-alone workshop, all on Zoom

Reflections: Rest

How interesting. I intended to write about fresh starts this month, about how September feels like a time for that, a stepping into the new...and it will be for many of us. Some will be entering the new academic year, one quite unlike any other for those studying or supporting their family in doing so. September is also a time when, here in Cornwall, it feels as if everyone, everything, breathes a sigh of relief as the weight of people visiting reduces a little.

I have often thought I have heard the land, the earth herself, breathe more easily. I am not sure how it will be this year, if there will still be many more holiday makers here than usual as people choose not to go overseas.

Always, I hope to feel full of energy and enthusiasm as this time begins. The period between summer and the preparations for Christmas, when people may have time to reflect, to think about what they wish to plan for their future. Instead, I find within me (and maybe for you?) a deep exhaustion.



(I have chosen this photo, taken some years ago now in the Chalice Well Gardens in Glastonbury, as the perfect image to inspire me to rest. To imagine sitting here, gently rocking, looking out over the gardens.)

Reflections: Challenges and Changes
From my archives: August titles poem
Events and ways to Dare to Blossom
"The Powerful Voice of the Quiet Ones" signed copy or ebook

Reflections: Challenges and Changes
Some of you already know that my brother Roger died suddenly recently. There is no easy way to share news like that, even when you do not know the person. 

Many of my family subscribe to this newsletter, so I am extending my arms to you again, as we often do, in a big warm virtual hug around the world. And to everyone else who would like a hug too - so many of us have experienced losses of all sorts during this time.

Those of you who have read my recent book "The Powerful Voice of the Quiet Ones" may remember that there I describe my first memory, of being allowed to hold my baby brother in the car on the way home from the hospital. I was two and a half years old, and I loved him immediately.

Roger had a minor heart attack many years ago,I can't remember how many, just that it is more than twenty years. Since then he has been pretty well and yet he went to bed on 8th July and didn't wake up.

Many of us would probably choose that way to go if we could, with no long illness or suffering. For his wife and son, for me, and for the rest of our family, it is of course a huge shock, an immense change. Add to that all the challenges of it happening at this time, when here in the UK we are still in the midst of the coronavirus pandemic, and it feels doubly difficult at times. We are lucky in that we are allowed to attend his funeral, along with up to thirty people. This will be on Friday this week.

Life is always about challenges, and about changes. Even though some of those feel impossible to deal with, to rise above, I know, for me, they can bring the biggest personal growth. Or to put it another way, the greatest insights into my personal power within.


"Green Sprite" - shared here simply because I love this painting.

Reflections: Finding my place, looking back five years
From my archives: July 2015
Reflections in June 2020 on finding my place
Events and ways to Dare to Blossom

Reflections: Finding my place, looking back five years

Here is the 'newsletter title' poem for July. In 2007, when I began, I did one newsletter for June and July, so it begins with the same phrase as the piece I shared in June. And ends that way as I have reversed back through the phrases again as I did last month.

July over the years
Seeing with new eyes
Every day, smile five times for no good reason
From ‘life coaching’ to ‘coaching for connection’
Treats
Listening
Authentic voices
Keeping the flame alive
Listening
Blossom, fruit, and seed
Finding my place
The balance of black and white
Curiosity
Flow
Adventure
………………..
Adventure
Flow
Curiosity
The balance of black and white
Finding my place
Blossom, fruit, and seed
Listening
Keeping the flame alive
Authentic voices
Listening
Treats
From ‘life coaching’ to ‘coaching for connection’
Every day, smile five times for no good reason
Seeing with new eyes

Reflections: Seeing with new eyes
From my archives: June 2007

Events and ways to Dare to Blossom

Reflections: Seeing with new eyes

Seeing with new eyes - that was the title of the reflections in my first ever newsletter, back in 2007. I began writing a piece that I thought would be for this newsletter a few days ago, in my journal. It was about the pandemic and how I was feeling about the 'magic and madness' of these times. Then I left it a while and kept on seeing more and more personal responses: all genuine and authentic (well, as far as I can tell anyway); all of value. All adding to the onslaught of words being written, and the cacophony of opinions expressed through the media.

So, I took a step back. I decided to 'start close in' in the words of the poem by David Whyte (that link is his general website, this one takes you to the poem on his Facebook page). This morning, when I opened my emails, the first I saw was from my friend Leslie Waugh, with her latest thoughts, with the first line 'start close to home' - such synchronicity, thank you Leslie, and for introducing me to another David Whyte poem Just beyond yourself. I hope this link will take you to Leslie's blog.

Next, I decided to look at my past thoughts for June each year, right back to 2007 (I began these monthly musings in March that year). Some are only available in my personal archives from that year, all since 2011 are on my blogspot page here, and since 2015, here on my website.

I discovered that the titles for the month of June over the years, seen one after the other, look a little like a poem, or maybe a list of writing prompts:

Seeing with new eyes
Procrastination
Watching water
Rest
Asking for help
Listening
Keeping the flame alive
Strong and True
Blossom, Fruit and Seed 
Endings and Beginnings
Midsummer Magic
Rest
Procrastination or Stepping Up
Subject, unknown

What are your first thoughts when you read that list?

Reflections: Curiosity
Book News: "Your Compass Rose Speaks – how to hear the voice of your inner guidance."
Events and ways to Dare to Blossom

Reflections: Curiosity

How are you? That question changes, doesn't it, once we are catapulted into this strange new situation. Now it feels as if we are all unsure of how we are day to day. Excuse me for presuming to speak for you, for all of us, I will return to my usual practice of simply writing from my own feelings. Yet there is a universal quality to the experience we are sharing right now. Even as we all respond differently, from day to day we are united in various ways.

The reason I asked "How are you?" is from concern for each of you who take the time to read this, time to connect. I also ask from a place of curiosity. Curiosity about those similarities we may find, and about the differences. One aspect I have noticed, and I find uncomfortable, is how judgemental I can become - of others, and of myself. Kindness is a good antidote to this, enabling me to soften those attitudes, those harsh judgements.

And so is curiosity. I wonder why I am feeling this way? I wonder why they are behaving like that? I watched a beautiful interview with Elizabeth Gilbert recently on coping with these times. One part that really struck me was when she spoke about 'passion' and about 'purpose', as being too challenging in this situation. As you know if you connect with my work or read these newsletters regularly, those words feature in one of the key components of my process now, The Compass Rose, along with power, progress and peace.



For me, I find that the way I see the Compass Rose, with each of those words rooted into the centre, Peace, where they, and we, are grounded and balanced - that both softens the challenge, and supports me in facing it. Elizabeth spoke about how she prefers to  explore 'curiosity', and this set me on this inquiry, this exploration today, as I sit in the spring sunshine in my garden.

How about if I bring curiosity into my own process, for myself, and with others? For me, there is an immediate sense of lightness, of release. "I wonder..." is a perfect starting point. It helps me quieten that judgemental voice within. It also brings a sense of possibility, of the magical. "What if...?"

Right now these questions are leading me to ask myself: I wonder how to celebrate the fifth anniversary of my very first online Midsummer Magic Carpet Ride Circle. What if I offer a special programme? And, what if we use curiosity to explore the Compass Rose? That was where I left my journal that day in the garden, sitting in the sunshine. More on that later in this newsletter.



Reflections: Waiting
Grounding Meditation: Compass Rose Speaks
Events and ways to Dare to Blossom

Reflections: Waiting

Waiting, waiting, the whole world feels in limbo just now, suspended.... I notice that in the February and March newsletters I wrote about change. None of us knew then just how much would shift and change over these few weeks, here in the UK anyway, and I imagine, for you too wherever you are in the world.

I feel two strange sensations: dizzy, as if my head is spinning from the news each day, and the new restrictions and rules that keep coming in. And, in limbo. Suspended. I see one of those slow motion images (that I personally find a little irritating when over-used) - of someone walking or running very, very slowly.

Waiting, waiting. Here in England we are into our second week of only being allowed out for essential purposes. One of those is exercise, but I am not allowed to drive to the cliffs where I love to walk. I have to start from my door and walk along the farm track, and maybe out onto the lanes. A lovely walk, even if with a different feel to being on the cliffs, and maybe I will when the weather is warmer and the biting cold north-easterly wind has changed direction. I am lucky to have lots of sheltered spots in the garden, so we have been able to sit in the sun with a cuppa several times over the last week.

I have been watching as this rhododendron, which hasn't flowered for several years, gradually opens. I have just reminded myself to go and visit it in a moment.