The Constellation Learning Newsletter
June 2008

Have you ever started a big project only to feel bogged down in the middle? Remember last newsletter when I wrote about the notion of simplicity and mentioned that I was selling my stuff and moving? I think that qualifies as a big project.

Funny how complicated the road to simplicity can become, if you don’t take things one step at a time.

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~ Monthly Message ~

“Don't be afraid to give your best to what seemingly are small jobs. Every time you conquer one it makes you that much stronger. If you do the little jobs well, the big ones will tend
to take care of themselves.”

--Dale Carnegie --

You may have noticed that you did not receive a May newsletter. For the first time in over a decade I missed a month—intentionally. This is precedent setting. Having neither the inclination nor the time nor anything worthwhile to pass along, I opted out rather than adhere to an arbitrary deadline. I’ve bumped into several folks who mentioned that they were looking forward to hearing how my move went.

I’ll tell you.

After a huge yard sale and the subsequent removal of larger furniture, after all the sorting and packing and giving away, I have unloaded three car loads into a boat and over to the island—and up the hill and wicked creaky stairs—using muscles long dormant. I know this because they told me so. Loudly. I did this on three different occasions, each time in the rain. And a small tin boat since the big one wasn’t yet in the water.

Are you aware that it’s often the case that wind accompanies heavy rain on a big river? And big waves? It’s true. Quite an experience. Each time. Though by the last load I was chuckling through it all.

I planned each load, timed to accommodate various professional commitments, and did it in stages. I felt quite smug about the results: everything of real worth to me—mostly books, research and program stuff, and personal memorabilia—fits into one room.

Oh, have I simplified, or what? (The fact that the water pump won’t work hasn’t dampened my spirits one whit; I live on an island, don’t ‘cha know!)

And then, having committed to it months ago, I turned around the day after unloading the last load and took off for Harford, Connecticut, to care for my brother’s three kids while he and his wife were out of the country.

Getting to that point was an exercise in forbearance; a word seldom used, but most appropriate here. There was one moment in particular when I was overwhelmed by the visual chaos surrounding me and the blinding thought “What was I thinking?” compelled me to retreat to my still sane study where I opened my laptop—always a comforting thing—and played three games of spider solitaire—not so comforting—before pulling myself up by bootstraps (as my father would say) and taking the next step. Just one step. The next step. One step.

And I just kept walking. One step at a time. Towards a mobile business and more relaxing, flexible life of my own creation.

Yep, I created this. This simplification. This…stillness.

I returned from Connecticut yesterday afternoon. After checking e-mail I found I was pacing the cottage like some caged tiger—there was nothing to do, nothing to plan, nothing to orchestrate. I’d been a moving target for two months. There was nothing left to do but… the rest of my life. THIS was what I had planned for, executed, and carried to completion. To be standing in a cottage, conducting my business and personal affairs from a place I’ve loved for over 50 years.

The life span of any project, professional or personal, follows a natural three-stage process: planning, executing, and completing. The fun is generally at the front end, celebration at the back end, with the real work required in the middle. That ‘middle’ work is where character is hewn.

It is human nature to enter into newness—a marriage, baby, job—with a mixture of anticipation (This could be great!) and dread (What if it isn’t?). These emotions bring with them natural human physiological physical and emotional responses: anxiety commonly called “stress.” Crossing into the ‘newness’ becomes a much more joyful journey if you beat down the voice of doubt one step at a time by recognizing you’re in the middle of a big change and everything you feel is natural! So don’t get your knickers in a bunch (as my mother would say).

Worked for me.

This morning, Tuesday, June the second, I got up—not to be trite, but here it is—and stepped into the rest of my life. Everything I had data-dumped onto a list last night (after I remembered I was human and forgave myself my natural transitional restlessness) was executed today in even manner. Gently. Completely.

Somewhere along the way to the reality I am experiencing this very moment, this exquisite moment—typing these words in front of a roaring fire, in a beautiful, old, sprawling, quiet cottage, just steps from the water’s edge, listening to some gentle music in the background—I crossed a bridge. I still don’t know its name. But I know the side on which I now stand.

Freedom. 

Amazing where one step at a time will take you.

By the way, did I mention that it’s raining?

“If we are facing in the right direction, all we have to
do is keep on walking.”

--Buddhist Saying --

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