Tools For Your Mind, Soul and Spirit

Last week, I took my first vacation in two years. I just did what I wanted and played around the house. I went to a movie in the middle of the week (gasp!), had lunch with a friend, hiked and took a day trip.

When the week began, I kept feeling pressure to DO something, anything, like email, write, work, etc. I’d feel the pressure surface, and would remind myself, “No, this is my vacation. I don’t have to do anything.” It was hard, but I knew it was important for me to be able to recharge.

It made me aware of how much pressure we put on ourselves to produce. Thinking time, creative space, mulling things over just aren’t valued in the U.S. culture. We push ourselves to the brink and keep pushing. This isn’t very healthy or helpful for creativity, solving problems or even productivity.

To be able to progress and formulate new ideas, we actually need downtime to do it. This is when our minds get their batteries charged and we get the juice to come up with new concepts.

It’s like being sleep deprived, which our culture also is. Without sleep to reset our bodies and process our experiences, we tend to get sick, confused and cranky. We don’t value something that is integral to our survival and thriving.

It’s interesting that looking productive is more important than actual efficiency. If we’re not pushing ourselves, then it’s assumed that we’re slackers. But the most inventive people are those who sit and look into thin air as they think. They do enjoyable things as their minds process and incubate ideas.

After exercise, we need to let muscles rest and rebuild. The same is true of our working lives. Taking time-off is necessary for not only mental health, but also physical health. It was hard, but I forced myself to take the time to give my brain a rest. When is your next time-out?

Copyright 2010 Linda Ann Stewart
All Rights Reserved

motivation, productivity, inspiration

Jeff and I were driving from Jerome to Cottonwood when the Flagstaff Schultz fire got started last month. Initially, we saw a little bit of smoke over the rim.

Within a half-hour, that smoke had grown into a huge column of smoke. From that we could tell that the fire had really exploded. Apparently, the fire was caused by a hiker abandoning their campfire without putting it out thoroughly.

Most people think that Arizona is all desert. In actuality, much of Northern and Eastern Arizona is wooded. It has a very active lumber industry.

Fire is a natural cycle in these woods, but normally it’s mainly on the floor of the forests. In this case, fire actually burns off brush and improves the health of the trees. Gigantic forest fires, like the one in Flagstaff, burn the trees and leaves scorched stumps.

A week after the fire began, we drove up to Flagstaff to view the extent of the damage and see how firefighting efforts were going.

It looked like the entire side of one of the mountains was smoldering. It’s heart-rending. It’ll take decades, if not a century or more for the forest to recover.

Six years ago, I joined the Arizona Chapter of the National Speaker’s Association as a Candidate Member. Over the years, I’ve attended their meetings, gained a lot of information and met some great people. Because of some personal issues, I wasn’t ready to make the leap into professional status.

Last month, I was finally ready (or close enough). I submitted my application and documentation to meet their criteria, and was accepted. I am now a newly minted, honest-to-goodness, authentic professional speaker. This week, on Tuesday, I was also the featured professional speaker on the Arizona Chapter’s website.

This happens at a time when my Tobacco-Cessation classes are ending due to state budget cuts. When one door closes, another one opens. Sometimes you have to search for the open door (or, at times, open window), but there is one. Although I’m sad about my classes ending, I’m looking forward to the possibilities that lie ahead.

In the 27 years I’ve lived and hiked in rural Arizona, I’ve never seen a poisonous snake in the wild. I’ve seen many non-poisonous ones, even on my own deck. I know to watch out for them, and to be careful where I’m stepping.

Yesterday, Jeff and I were in the southern desert, near Phoenix, so he could take some photographs. On our second stop, he went one way, I went another to scout for him. Even though we’d just been warning each other to beware of snakes, I wasn’t as conscientious or mindful as I should have been.

I glanced at the ground and walked forward without paying it much attention. When I should have been examining the dirt in front of me, I was looking up a hill.

“Buzzzz,” I heard, the warning everyone dreads. About 2 steps in front of me was an upset rattlesnake. By the time I noticed her, she was barely out of striking range. I instantly backed up as quickly as I could to get away from her. The snake blended into the dirt perfectly, and it was no wonder that, when I just scanned the ground, I didn’t see her.

As I trotted back towards the car, I yelled, “Rattlesnake” at Jeff. Instead of leaving it alone (as a reasonable person would), the photographer was thrilled and said, “Cool. I’ve wanted to photograph one for years.” He spent the next 20 minutes (way too close to it for my peace of mind) taking pictures of the snake. For another photo of it, visit TheCreativesCorner.com, Jeff’s blog.

My mom said, “God protects drunks and fools,” and I frequently use the affirmation, “I am protected at all times, under all circumstances.” I sat in the car, feeling like a fool, and thanking God profusely for the gift of the warning to walk no further.

Life can turn on a dime. Mine could have taken a challenging turn yesterday. I’m very grateful that it didn’t, and will pay more attention to where I’m about to step in the future. I’ll also use my affirmation for protection more often, especially when I’m out in nature.

Copyright 2010 Linda Ann Stewart
All Rights Reserved

In the Verde Valley, we have several American Indian ruins open to the public. Montezuma’s Castle National Monument is well known, with its building perched high in the cliff. But the one I love, and hold close to my heart, is Montezuma’s Well. It’s associated with the Montezuma Castle National Monument, but 11 miles north of the Castle.

Long ago, a limestone cavern collapsed, leaving a circular hole that filled up with water. The Sinagua built dwelling on the inner walls of the cliff. Water constantly percolates up through the limestone, creating a lake of (essentially) carbonated water. The Well is 368 feet across and 55 feet deep.

At one end of the Well, the water flows through a tunnel to the far side of the cliff. Indian ruins sit just above the outlet within the Well and there are also some on top of the cliff.

The water empties into an irrigation ditch dug by the cliff dwellers hundreds of years ago and into a year-round stream, Beaver Creek.

This particular place is special and sacred. There’s an element of serenity that I don’t feel at the Castle.

In the confines of the park, there’s a lovely picnic area, a lime coated irrigation ditch, and more ruins under roof.

It’s a lovely oasis in the desert. Jeff and I spent the afternoon here, and had a peaceful lunch in the tree shaded picnic area.

Jerome is a ghost town and artist haven, perched high on the mountain near Sedona, AZ. It’s the 3rd most visited destination in Arizona, after Grand Canyon and Sedona. And it’s one of our favorite places.

Recently, we attended the 45th annual Jerome Home Tour. Over the years, I’ve attended several Jerome Home Tours, and love them. I admit, I’ve always enjoyed history. During the tours, I’ve learned so much about the town, the buildings and the people.

One house we visited has been renovated from a ruin. Before the work began, ivy held its outer walls together, the roof was caved in and the space was filled with mud. Now it’s gorgeous. They’ve used as much of the original wood and flooring as they could.

Most of the time, the tour includes a commercial business. This year, it was the Connor Hotel. It’s only been recently remodeled and opened again after being closed for 20 years. I’ve wanted to peek into its rooms for decades, and finally got my wish this year. They’ve updated it, but have kept some of the original fixtures. One room still has the original skylight, another the original tin ceiling.

This year, we got to visit the largest wooden headframe in Arizona. It was designed to haul up ore from the mine. At 1900 feet deep, it’s 653 feet deeper than the Empire State Building is tall. The headframe stands just below Jerome State Park, which was slated to be closed, along with all the other state parks in Arizona. However, Jerome State Park (along with most of the others, by individuals and communities) has been rescued and will stay open. Once renovations are complete on the Douglas Mansion (which is the park), it should be able to reopen, probably in the fall.

The glass pane you see on the ground, just at the left foot of the photographer (Jeff), covers the mineshaft. (Behind him, you can see another headframe that hauled men up from the mine.) They’d set up a light that illuminated this shaft and, when you stepped on the glass, you could see 1700 feet down the hole, to the 200 feet of water that fills it at the bottom. Yes, I was brave enough to stand on it and look down.

Last week was National Park week, which meant free entry into many of them, including the Grand Canyon National Park. Since Jeff and I live less than three hours away from there, we made a day of it. We took sandwiches and spent the afternoon at the park.

It’s been twenty-three years since I’ve visited it, which is ridiculous considering how close we live to it. And I love it’s magnificence, ruggedness, and expanse. A lot has changed since then, including lots more parking.

The last time I was there, I hiked the Bright Angel Trail six miles, and 3000 feet down to Plateau Point, where you can look 1300 feet straight down onto the Colorado River.

If you look near the center of the photograph above, you’ll see a squiggly line down the left flank of the mountain. That’s the top part of Bright Angel Trail, which leads down to Plateau Point.

In the center of the photograph below, on that flat plateau, you’ll see a line that dead-ends at the edge. That line is the trail to the edge, which is Plateau Point.

I feel like that hike was my marathon, a huge accomplishment and peak experience in my life. It took me ten hours to make the round trip of twelve miles.

This past weekend, we visited Yavapai Point, and spent the afternoon strolling 1½ miles west towards Bright Angel Lodge, taking photographs as we went. It was a United Nations experience, as we heard Chinese, German, Russian, and French spoken by the people we passed.

Photographs can’t do the place justice. It’s just too big for photos to encompass. Jeff and I left just after sunset, which a glorious experience there. Shadows paint the rocks blue and violet, and the clouds glow pink. I certainly don’t plan on letting another couple of decades go by before standing on the edge of the Canyon, in awe of the view.

by Linda-Ann Stewart

On Saturday, I was talking with a woman at a meeting and mentioned Joseph Murphy and his best selling book, “The Power of Your Subconscious Mind.” She asked, “In his book, did he explain why the subconscious doesn’t work for most people?”

I was stunned. The subconscious always is working. You may not be getting the outcome that you want, but that’s not the fault of the subconscious. It’s only doing and giving you what you’ve programmed into it in the past or present.

The subconscious has rules, principles, and ways that it functions. And just as with federal law, “Ignorance of the law is no excuse.” Just because you don’t know what those rules are or choose not to follow them doesn’t mean you’re excluded from their effect.

The subconscious can’t determine what you consciously want if you’re focused on its opposite. If you want more money, but are focused on a feeling of lack and fear that you don’t have enough for your bills, the subconscious absorbs the idea with the most energy or feeling. In this case, it would be a lack of money.

The subconscious isn’t responsible for deciding what to accept. That’s what the conscious mind is supposed to do. The conscious is the director, and the subconscious is the actor. The subconscious follows the directions of the conscious mind from the present or the past.

Working with the subconscious is simple. You focus exclusively on what you want, feel its reality, and take action towards it. But it’s not always easy to do this. You have to be disciplined, persistent, and get past old issues that may have blocked your goal.

I think that’s why people have the mistaken idea that the subconscious doesn’t work for them. They just aren’t able, or willing, to follow the principles. It may be simple, but it certainly isn’t easy.

Copyright 2010 Linda Ann Stewart
All Rights Reserved

self improvement, self help, personal growth, personal development, motivation

I’ve hiked to the Devil’s Kitchen, the sinkhole in Soldier’s Pass, Sedona, AZ, many times. But the last one was several years ago. Jeff and I tried it a few weeks ago, but the parking lot was full, so we went to Fay Canyon. This time, we lucked out and found a place to park. The photo below is taken of the east and south sides.

In the past, we’d walk a ways up the dirt road that the Jeep companies use to tour visitors around, and then follow a short trail to the sinkhole. But in the period since our last visit, the Forest Service has actually created a trail from the parking lot to the Devil’s Kitchen. That meant we didn’t have to dodge vehicles, though we did have to contend with mountain bikes.

That tiny figure in the photo above (arrow pointing at) is me on the west side of the sinkhole. Sinkholes are created when water dissolves rock underground, forming a cave. Eventually, the cavern gets large enough that the surface rock collapses into the cavity. It’s about 100 feet deep and over 100 feet wide. The photos below are taken of the north side.

This sinkhole, originally formed in the 1880’s, has expanded since I moved to Sedona in 1982. Part of the back wall fell in the late 80’s, in the early 90’s and again recently. And there are cracks (in the foreground of the photo below) where another part is falling away from the wall.

From the sinkhole, we followed the new trail a little way further to visit the 7 Sacred Pools. These are pockets eroded into the rock along a dry creek bed. When we have rain, water flows over them and leaves them filled. After a while, the water becomes brackish and evaporates. Where you see white bands, there’s a pool there. The first and highest pool is just beyond that outcrop.

Jeff and I made our annual pilgrimage to the 16th century (fantasy) this month. Each year, we try to spend one weekend at the Arizona Renaissance Faire, and we attend in costume.

They have three “pointy things” you can throw at a wooden wall target: knives, Ninja stars, or axes. Here is Jeff (in the green shirt and black hat) being knighted after hitting the bullseye with an ax.

Saturday was a beautiful day, perfect temperature. But we knew that a cold, wet weather system was due to arrive Sunday. So we decided to see all the performances while the weather was nice on Saturday, and shop on Sunday in the covered booths.

Entertainers and sword-fighters Don Juan and Miguel posing for photos. “Photo Op!”

Entertainers Wine and Alchemy, with music and bellydancing.

It started sprinkling on Sunday about 11am, with a few heavier showers during the day. We had one cloudburst, when it poured and we took refuge in Pirate’s Pub, along with a lot of other people. It flooded the promenade and a creek flowed in a normally dry bed under a bridge. One brave patron entertained us with a spontaneous swordfight with a couple of young squires and their wooden swords.

We forgot to take photos, because we were in survival mode. We were damp around the edges, and trying to pick our way around the pools, jumping over them.  My feet were so cold and wet that I couldn’t feel them.

Finally, at 4pm, the sun came out. We decided to sit and watch a show. Afterward, when I stood up, I could feel the water in my shoes squishing between my toes.

I realize that the weather was authentic British Isle’s conditions. Which is why I’m glad I live in Arizona. But rain or shine, warm or cold, we enjoyed our weekend and had a hard time transitioning back into our everyday lives.