Stories to support the life our heart yearns to lead…

The beach was shiny new flat clean sand, miles and miles of Saturday morning joy.

Inspiration in its limitless possibility, stretching as far as the eye could see, and aspiration too from those treading on its sandy shored expanse.

I love watching the Moroccan boys and young men stretching their limbs, running jumping doing all sorts of athletic leaps and bounds… One ran past us, smoothly fluently and then turned around and ran backwards along the sand…

I remembered doing the same – years ago – and so although we were on a walk, with my body still recovering from its short illness, running backwards started to happen… I was inspired!

I have no concept of age anymore…. Of course I know that I have been treading this plane for over 58 years; but I mean I have concept of what that might mean… What tales I might make up up about its limitations or expectations…

I look at the movements of the children, those who have not trodden these earthly shores for as long as I have and I seek to learn from them, to mimic their agility, their reed like stature, their posture and strength, their supple flexible bodies…

The only time that I remember having to ‘work through’ an ageing issue process, was when I was 41 and I had an overwhelming sense of ‘time running out’ for my running life…

Clearly I am free of that ‘story’ now… 🙂

And in my bare feet, on the contrary, I feel like I have just begun, all over again… That I am right at the very beginning of my running journey; not at the end as I feared back then!

Any tension or thoughts that we get stuck on, and start to ‘story’ can become our truth and then, inevitably, we start to pick up the same stories in the mirror…

We find ourselves speaking with others with the same fear – and deepening it, so that it feels to be the truth – or in my case someone asked me about my ankle which at the time had been sore for quite awhile, I said it wasn’t quite better yet… The response…  ‘You’re crocked girl…’ Was a turning point, I knew I wasn’t crocked and I also knew the fear within me that felt maybe I was, that I was done, my running over, the end…

In seeing this fear reflected back at me so starkly, I resolved to go deeper into the place where I was holding onto the ‘ageing story…’

And now; 17 years on, I have no concept of ageing, or slowing, or being crocked or any such thing… Instead I feel that each new day brings new possibilities, new inspiration, new bright spot lights on the stage, where the show of my own life is being played out… 🙂

It is a good practise to listen to the stories all around us, the ones we tell and the ones others tell, and to remind ourselves that they are just that… Stories – Some may hold huge value and inspire and uplift, but some may stick us in mud and make life seem dull and hard.

We are co creating all the time, in the spaces between us where the dialogue is woven and created into the ‘truths’ we receive… Being conscious of what we are co creating means that we can make something up that truly supports the life our heart yearns to lead….

I have a story now…

My story is that Fatima, our dueña here in Essaouira has taken it on herself to feed me up since the ‘short illness’…

She added cheese to my omelette this morning – and not to Anadi’s – and this very moment she has just brought us a plate piled high with moroccan sweet delights…

There was no hesitation from either Anadi and I…

The plate is now empty!