Feeling compassion may go a long way to improving well-being, reducing stress and achieving better academic results, according to a study recently released by University of Redlands researchers. With over a decade of research, the study was released by Religious Studies Professor Fran Grace, Psychology Professor Celine Ko and Biology Professor Lisa Olson. The study builds upon what Grace has observed and documented in students who have taken her course on contemplative practices.  In an article published in the fall 2018 issue of OchTamale Magazine, she revealed that one student reported that his blood pressure decreased, his outlook on life changed, and his anxiety lessened. The course focused on studies of models like the Dalai Lama and Mother Teresa, the inner cultivation of meditation and contemplative practices and applying what was learned in community service.  "At the end of the semester, those who took the course reported higher compassion, self-compassion and mindfulness compared to those who did not take the course. Also, the students had lower salivary alpha-amylase a biological measure of stress." Resiliency is ultimately energy management. Anger, aggression, depression, anxiety are all energy drainers. Consider gifting yourself with at least 10 minutes of meditation a day. Consider using INSIGHT Timer, a free App for the Android and IOS phones. Or consider “The Power of Meaning” by Emily Esfahani Smith.  Put away your smart phones and become smart by connecting with your resilient spirit.

Mayshad Magazine is an advocacy platform for empowerment which mainly focuses on empowering women, raising awareness and exploring a contemporary lifestyle.  Their tagline is "Be Who You Want To Be" and their content is both educating and uplifting.  I was delighted when I was approached for an interview and I'm excited to share it with you. The questions I was asked included “As a motivational speaker, how do you keep yourself daily motivated to transmit your positivity to other individuals? Where does your passion come from?”, “In what ways does the relationship between a speaker and an audience sustain you, and in what ways does it not?”, “If you had to choose one empowering speech you could share with our Mayshad readers right now, what would it be?” and more. You can read the entire interview at https://bit.ly/2UHmHKW.

Cajas National Park is a high-altitude area west of Cuenca, Ecuador. It’s known for trails through evergreen cloud forests and hundreds of lakes. It’s also home to a rich variety of wildlife including Andean condors, giant hummingbirds and raccoon-like coatis—none of which we saw in our last hike before returning to California. In fact, our little band of explorers kept looking outward to the sky or into the forests, moving quickly along a trail. Maybe because I was the shortest of our group, my gaze seemed to fall downward. It was also imperative as I often can move too fast and end up sliding down an embankment or doing a face plant. But in the Cajas, Mother Nature decided to give me a lesson and reward me for looking down.There, hidden among the foliage was the tiniest yellow/red blossom – a Sarazhima flower. Apparently, the bud never opens but just bobs it’s balloon-like head in the winds that cross the Cajas.  Further inspection in a forest revealed a carpet of green-on-green grasses that looked more like starbursts. I called to my buddies to come see what a slow pace and a ground-focused gaze brought. The more I pondered these tiny plants, the more an insight appeared. How often do I (perhaps you) look outward to “the goal”, keeping count of how far I have to go and focusing on the outcome? What do I miss by not slowing down, by not taking stock of what is in my present moment? As we approach the holiday with all its busyness, I want to be conscious of what is at my feet. The upcoming dinner and guests will arrive in due time. But right now, it is only what I see in the present that has true meaning. What do you see right where you stand? What does this moment hold for you? It is the only one we own.

“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye." - THE LITTLE PRINCE It isn’t every day that I find myself in rubber boots, following a machete-wielding woman, Carmenita, up a muddy trail, through jungle brush, and into a clearing with butterflies. Gorgeous butterflies. And tropical flowers whose names elude my brain. Twelve of us have come to experience the Machaku Yuku community, an indigenous Quecha people who live near the headquarters of the Amazon in Ecuador. For two days, Bill and I share a house on stilts with Marta, the wife of the head of the village. I suspect we are given this honor because Bill is the oldest in our group. The Machaku Yuku are opening their houses and hearts to allow us to experience how they live, what they eat, and how they cohabitate in an environment that offers everything from poisonous snakes to healing plants. Carmenita shows us the huge ant nests that hang from leaves.  She places a gigantic ant on my arm which later, will be barbecued and we shall eat at their healer’s house. The healer is Carmenita’s father. When I tell him I think I have the start of bronchitis—a chronic condition for me—he mixes a brew of various leaves, hands me the corked bottle, and says to take it twice a day. Heck—if I can eat an ant –and later a grilled worm—I’ll try it.  It stopped my bronchitis! We rise at dawn to sit with community members who gather to share any dreams from the night before. Certain members serve as interpreters of the dreams. The community shares horchata tea before scurrying off to get the children ready for school. The older ones walk 2.5 hours to get to a road for the school bus while the younger ones are taught in a single room. For our last night, we sit in an open-air circular building. We’re requested to NOT sit with each other but to choose members of the village. A tiny girl with gorgeous black eyes, nestles under my arm while another one sits on my lap. The village musicians perform their music and dance for us.  Then, we are asked to join them in dancing which is quite easy to do because it seems there are no prescribed steps. The finale is to get the three couples in our party to stand and to be re-married in Quecha style. It is such a sweet invitation and so incredibly simple. Our three men are each escorted by male villagers as their sponsors. They are given white ponchos to wear and a hat. Three times the men approach us (the wives) and bow. On the third time, we stand, each with a female escort, and join the men.That’s it: married!  Had this been an actual ceremony, we would have been sent out to the jungle to have our first night alone.  (I’ll take my little bed with the mosquito netting, thank you!) Here’s the point. I write so you can see what I saw. But what I felt—the invisible—ahhh, that was the lesson. Without pretense, apology or guile, this community accepted us on equal terms, trusting that our hearts would open just as theirs did. Marta proudly showed us how the bark of a tree could be shredded to make a fine thread that she began to weave into a basket. My little under-the-arm child held my hand and stroked my thumbnail, smiling all the while. And when it was time to leave, sure they offered items that they had made for us to buy.  BUT it was not a condition of engagement.It was just that—a simple offering. Question: How do we bring the stranger into our home? The stranger who does not speak our language? Would we open our bedroom, serve them at our table, take them on excursions that might seem foreign? Would we sing and dance for them? Something to ponder.

Ten years ago, my husband and I joined Dr. Jeff Salz, a cultural anthropologist, to explore the northwest quadrant of the Indian Himalayas.Our venerable guide and instructor was Ankit Sood.Ankit, founder of Sunshine Himalaya Expeditions, is a man whose business is to bring environmental and cultural awareness of the people and the ecology of that region.It was eye-opening, invigorating, and full of serendipity—including finding the Dalai Lama in a remote monastery. In October of this year, we joined Jeff again to explore the cultures and the environment of Ecuador.The journey was crafted not only by Jeff but also through the expert hand of Pedro Armendariz, managing director of Galapagos Center. (Check out what Pedro and his team can do!) From living with the Machaku Yaku community at the headwaters of the Amazon to watching condors soar over the high planes of the Andes, to marveling over the plants and insects found in a jungle environment, to eating two-inch long ants and roasted worms, we walked away more convinced than ever that this planet and its people demand our attention. As if to underscore that conviction, this week, the world Wildlife Fund reported that 60 percent of all wild animals with a backbone that existed between 1970 and 2014 are now extinct!! USA TODAY quoted Marco Lambertini, WWF director general who is using the data as a call to action. Lambertini says this is the first generation that has a clear picture of human's impact on nature and has the ability to reverse the trends. Pollution and climate change are among the primary factors. "We can be the founders of a global movement that changed our relationship with the planet, that saw us secure a future for all life on Earth, including our own," Lambertini said in the report's forward. "Or we can be the generation that had its chance and failed to act; that let Earth slip away." We can’t be that generation! Ecotourism allows one to learn about ecosystems, cultures and traditions in a way that protects the natural environment and allows communities to thrive through tourist-related employment and other means. We walked away more aware of how to practice sustainability at home and increased our sensitivity toward other cultures. Grateful for these experiences, my prayer for all of us is that we do what we can to protect this fragile planet and it’s amazing diversity of humanity.

Dateline: Octovalo, Ecuador In the tiny restaurant beside the railroad tracks, our band of adventurers had our first dinner. Popcorn is served with every soup course. Potatoes and beans prevail. Chicken is the offered meat… notwithstanding the hens and peeps walking across the rails. Three young men come to showcase their instruments and indigenous music. Fascinating. Intricate. But it is only the next day, when we go to the tiny house/studio of the musicians’ leader, I learn of his foray into making instruments and then teaching at the school. Juan’s eyes gleam with pride as he handles a guitar made from the shell of an armadillo. Bamboo stalks, carefully chosen and seasoned, transform into notes that surely the Greek god Pan might have breathed. We discover he taught himself how to make and mold the instruments. He is probably the first music teacher in the village. That he loves what he does is clear. He has created his life around his talent. How many times might I downplay a talent to fall into the routine of my life? Something to ponder.

Years ago, cultural anthropologist, Dr. Jeff Salz, led us through an amazing adventure as we hiked the northwest quadrant of the Indian Himalayas. From traveling the highest “navigable” road in the world (you’ve got to be kidding), to encountering the Dalai Lama in the remote monastery of Naiko, to making it across three white water rivers on foot, to discovering an India that few see, we loved it all. Hence, we never hesitated when Jeff proposed a new adventure/inventure: “Come experience the cultures of Ecuador. Through the next series of articles, join me on the resiliency insights I discovered in this last journey. It began with the flight into Quito, a city perched at 10,000 feet in the Andes. Sprawling below us, lights stretched across the high mountain floor. A driver for Hacienda Jimenita met us in the dark night, taking us on a bumpy road to the gate of what, the next day, we discovered was a 6th generation hacienda. By morning, family members gathered to discuss their plans for the day while two French bull terriers snored on an antique sofa. Lesson: When the world changes, change what you can but keep what you treasure. We all know the saying that experiences are of more value than things. But some “things” keep the memories and the experiences alive. In Hacienda Jimenita, photos abound of the families who lived in this wonderful house. The current residents point to Mama and Poppa, Abuela and Abuelo (grandparents), to baptism pictures and favorite horses. You sense the history and the work that continues to create an eco-resort just outside the bustling city of Quito. Surely, it would have been easier in some respects to quit the ancient land, to give up building, repairing, and building again. It would have been easier to build up a large architectural practice (which at least one of the brother’s has) but then, who protects and safeguards the land?

Drizzling, cold rain kept my drive along Pacific Coast Highway a soggy mess. “Poor cyclists”, I thought as I passed what looked like a race.   Ugh - What a DREARY day for a race! The longer I drove, the more I realized something was DIFFERENT about these cyclists. Sure, some had the lean, hard Lance Armstrong bodies one comes to expect in a bicycle race. But most of these folks were different. A number looked like weekend warriors, puffing as they edged up the hill entering Laguna Beach. Pudgy legs, tummies over the handle bars, and gray hair matted down under blue and white pointed hard plastic helmets. Some were young adolescents, peddling in bravado ahead of the adults.  A couple hundred riders of different ages, sizes, shapes, and colors. “What’s going on?” I thought as I tried to peer through the beat of the windshield wipers. A number of observers stood by the side of the road cheering, waving and holding up posters that looked none-the-worse for the rain. BEAT MS!!! “Oh,” I slowed down, waved, and gave a thumbs-up. It was a ride to raise money for multiple sclerosis—that scourge of a disease that turns life into a complicated, never ending battle to just move. Every week, some 200 people are diagnosed with MS. I passed a team of six wearing identical jerseys “SPOKES people in the fight against MS.”.  Spokes?   I get it: Bicycles!!  I laughed out loud and gave them a thumbs up and a blown kiss as I passed. It became a GREAT day a race—the human race.

“The Earth was small, light blue, and so touchingly alone, our home that must be defended like a holy relic.The Earth was absolutely round. I believe I never knew what the word round meant until I saw the Earth from space. - Aleksei Leanov, Russian Astronaut When we’re overwhelmed and overworked, our energy is scattered. We don’t see the big picture, the potential end result, the success we’ve had, the work we’ve already done.Time out. Rise up. We’ve lost our perspective. Just as an astronaut does not rocket alone to outer space, we need to find someone to travel with us. We need a fellow voyager who can help us look down and see the bigger picture. It might be a colleague, a client, a friend, or a spouse who helps us understand what is really important and what we’ve accomplished to date. I have a colleague who gets terrible upset, de-energized and depressed when she finds herself fixated on an upcoming presentation. I’m her co-pilot, reminding her to look down and remember the risks she took, the differences she made. I hear her sigh of relief over the phone. I have my flight buddies who help me look down.  Who can fly with you? This excerpt is from My Get-Up-and-Go Got Up and Went!. If you’d like your own copy or one for a friend or colleague visit our website here. "This book will revive your spirit from the inside out. Open it anywhere and follow the directions. You’ll be jolted back to life…" — Dr. Marcia Reynolds, Author of "Outsmart Your Brain and Wander Woman: How High-Achieving Women Find Contentment and Direction"

My previous post began with the destruction of La Casa de Maria and the Center for Spiritual Renewal. For twenty years, I have made a self-pilgrimage to the top of El Cielo. It's a 4.3 mile hike from the Center to the ridge line (8.6 mile round trip) above Montecito. Now, it’ a fine of $5,000 for anyone who even enters the trail after the destruction. However, that didn’t mean I couldn’t pull out old journals and discover what that climb taught me. In 1996 I started the hike because I was terrified to do it. Later years, I climbed it to prove to myself that I still could! Each year, it offered new challenges. The first hour was beside San Ysidro creek, the path staying pretty wide and the walk uphill had few boulders. But it was cool under the shelter of coastal oaks. However, turn away from the creek and the trail narrowed into steep switchbacks. The journal entry I read reported this: “This has to be the hottest January on record. A blazing sun sears my jeans and jean shirt. I yearn for shorts and a lighter weight top. My legs feel heavier with each step. My head pounds. What lessons will the mountain offer today? I come away with three: To reach any goal, it always takes longer than you think it should. I swear each year they move the mountain top. My pace is better than in early years but my legs ache. But I am determined to reach the top. Just like I am determined to write the next book, to create new programs, to clean my office. You know the drill. I must build in extra time because it will always take longer. Most people turn back when the "heat" is on. I realize that the only people I encounter are stopped at the upper most waterfall that because of a pitiful rainy season, is nothing more than a trickle. They miss the panorama of a Pacific ocean, flat and glassy, the Santa Barbara skyline and Ventura to the South. I was not prepared for the heat. There's a lesson right there! Keep your eye on the right mountain. I almost turn back. I am so hot and aching. The ridge line seems so far away. Two more switchbacks and I realize I have been staring at the wrong peak. Might be someone else's goal but it is not mine. Wow. Where am I trying to climb someone else's mountain and not mine? So now, showered and tired, I will allow myself the luxury of a nap. A reward. What will you do to reward yourself this year when you climb your mountain?” The end of that journal entry. The lessons will resonate.

This past January would have marked the 21st year to go La Casa de Maria and The Center for Spiritual Renewal, a blessed retreat house that for decades has offered silence and reflection—plus meals from their garden. Each year I go away to be quiet and in the quiet. I think, pray, write, and hike. The center crouches at the base of a mountain range towering over Montecito, CA and offers views of the distant Channel Islands. However, 2018 saw horrid fires and mudslides that literally turned homes into graveyards, roads into impassable mud rivers, and destroyed lives plus businesses. La Casa was not spared. The cottages, the chapel, the bookstore, the gardens, and more were literally crushed and /or swept away. Evacuations took place. The men and women who worked here have been let go. The few who remain must now turn their attention to question of rebuilding and major fundraising. It will take literally take millions to bring open this place of solace and spirit. This will not happen overnight But that event—as personal as it was to me—was a mere foreshadowing of other disasters: fires that raged in Northern California, destroying lives and livelihood; a relentless water-drenched hurricane that destroyed lives and livelihoods in the Carolina's; the worst droughts on record that have forced water rationing in Cape Town South Africa. And I started to write this, a 7.5-magnitude earthquake hit near Sulawesi, Indonesia. Shortly after, a tsunami with waves of up to 18 feet (5.5 meters) devastated the coast, leaving at least 1,200 people dead and dozens missing. Devastation. Disruption. Disaster. Horrific. Horrible. Heartbreaking. IS RECOVERY EVEN POSSIBLE? Such a hard question bears no fast answers. As your mind reels with the disasters, here are initial thoughts. Do something. Action is the antidote for anxiety. If you are so moved by any of the events that seem to circle our globe, consider these actions: Donate to reputable, boots-on-the-ground, organizations. CARE International has had a presence in Indonesia since 1967. You can see their efforts here.  World Vision is on the ground and this link relates exactly what immediate actions are being taken. Save the Children and its local partner are frantically trying to protect and provide for so any children who have lost their parents. All three of these are global organizations committed to action. Become aware and educated about potential causes of these disasters. While the Indonesia tragedy stems from its location on the “ring of fire”, the other disasters are made worse by accelerating climate change. Science Daily offers the most up to date global research on how these changes are impacting our economy and global stability. Consider what positive insights can be drawn from these disasters. This is surely not to undercut the intense emotional and physical anguish but rather to say “what might we learn?” La Case de Maria has discovered an outpouring of support they never knew they had. Ready hands are shoveling, cleaning, building, and praying. Site planning for construction now knows to take into account San Ysidiro Creek. Warning systems for everything from fire to floods to earthquakes are getting closer examination with innovations and better practices under discussion. Sustainability through corporate activism has replaced the vacuum of climate-denying governments. Fortune’s 2018 Change the World Issue highlighted such companies. Supermarket chain Kroger is simultaneously working to eliminate food waste and feed the hungry. Bank of America is helping to finance earth-friendly, low carbon business though green bonds. Adidas is recovering plastic from the oceans and converting it into shoes. In short, after the US withdrew from the Paris agreement on climate change, more than 900 businesses publicly pledged to fight global warming, including Fortune 500 companies from many industries. Be grateful and recall your lessons from other seeming “disasters”. As I prepare to travel to Dublin to be one of the keynoters at Simmons International Conference, it’s humbling to be in the presence of others who have gone through so much and discovered strength and purpose. I know I will learn from Nobel Laureates like Malala Yousafzai and Leymah Gbowee to journalists Mariane Pearl and Lara Logan. They took a long view of events and have become models of resiliency and global significance. I will share what I discover from these remarkable women.

I recently found this article which I wrote eight years ago. It struck me that the insights are timeless. Enjoy! One hour north of Ely, MN, off a gravel road called Echo Trail, Little Indian Sioux River meanders through lily-pad waters and past beaver houses to meet Loon Lake.  It’s but a tiny part of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness, a vast chain of lakes and rivers that divide Canada and the United States. It was our fourth season to canoe for a week, testing our ability to paddle against wind gusts of 35-mph, fight mosquitoes and stinging flies, drag our boat over beaver dams, portage up and down slippery trails and sleep most nights under the stars. A prior trip resulted in a leadership article. Seems nature can offer insights on many aspects of life. This trip was no exception: Necessity IS the mother of creativity.  A small piece of yellow rubber tubing from an exercise band replaced the lost shower head on our solar shower water bag. I teased our friend, Tom, when he threw the band into his Duluth pack.  Boy, was I wrong.  What can you look at—with different eyes—that might solve a problem? If the wind is at your back, make the most of it. On the few occasions the fierce wind shifted, I discovered that a raised paddle blade, turned to catch wind, acted as a mini sail, driving us more quickly across the open water. Yes, it was also necessity!If you have momentum, how can you make more of it. Expended energy demands refueling to keep going.  Ziplock bags of nuts, fruit and M&Ms became essential when we’d slow down.  Even the birds in these waters are constantly looking to refuel. During breeding season, a pair of loons can consume 2,000 pounds of fish. That might also explain why I never caught any!  Do you stop and refuel when your body needs it? Everything works better when the team is in synch. Our friends in the other canoe often seemed to move more quickly than we did.  Then I realized: their paddle strokes were in synch.  Plus, Tom sat in the bow and his stronger paddling made up for the times when Pam stopped paddling to steer the boat.  Ummm—now that’s not only synchronization of action but also a synchronization of talent.  Are you in synch with your team and playing to your strengths? You can only leave “home” if a champion stays behind. This trip would not have happened without my sister Susan, a champion of great ability and strength.  She moved into our house to oversee the care of Mom, thus allowing us to journey into the wilderness.  Who tends your home or work place so you can venture forth into new territory? Postscript We are venturing into new territory for the month of September. My champion, my ever-stalwart operations manager, Bonnie Davis, will monitor the office. Actually, she’ll be monitoring it from a trip to Scotland while we explore Milan, Lake Como, Budapest, Prague and the Danube.  Technology does allow connections. Be warned though, my goal is to stay as untethered as possible so I can find new lessons without the ping of email.