There are some weeks that are wonderful, some weeks that are nutty, and then there are those weeks that are very nuts.

The previous week was a mixed bag, but overall I was able to watch in awe as relationships with individuals — connections that I have really, really desired over the course of the last several months — suddenly materialised before my own eyes. People made offers to assist. There were some very incredible coincidences. It’s time for me to give something back. It doesn’t matter to me what the result is since I have no clue what it will be. There is potential in every direction, and baby, I can sense it.

Thank you, universe.

It is really vital for me to check in with the Stars I Steer By in order to establish my Compass for the week when I have all of this awe and wonder whirling around in my thoughts. Putting on the hat of Chief Navigator and reminding myself of what is really vital is something that is of tremendous assistance to me. My chipmunk brain is easily distracted by virtually anything glimmering in the light, just as a genuine compass may be thrown off by a magnet, causing it to point in any direction other than true north.

It just takes a few minutes to bring me back to myself by reminding me of what I already know to be true, what causes me joy, and what my future self will cherish.

This is not about shoulds or musts. Or fixing. Or trying harder.

It’s about remembering what I know.

Getting clarity about fear.

Dissolving failure with laughter.

Replacing resistance with ease.

Disarming cynicism with trust.

Choosing rest instead of panic.

The power in this exercise still baffles me.  I go from fretting about how I’m going to fit in every little item on my to-do list to watching how things fall into place because I’ve offered them an opening. My achievement oriented brain still doesn’t believe it, but week after week, when I set my Compass, things happen, and in ways I never could have managed or expected.

Nothing resets my Compass like some time outside with the children. On Sunday, we scoped out the Bigfork Community Nordic Center, a treasure hidden near the Jewel Basin, about 30 minutes from our front door. “Hidden” means the place is not well marked, and we only found the entrance by sheer luck. (“Hey, you with the skis! Are we in the right place?”)

A little shuffling on snow, some great conversation on the trails, and a few rays of sunshine on my face, and I was restored.

 My Compass

  • Moving forward in any way on my feels-like-a-big-thing project. (Psst . . . Bike Bliss is heading in a fantastic direction.)
  • Seeing a clean kitchen counter as a sacred space. That’s code for “I really hate doing dishes AND I hate seeing dirty dishes.”
  • Getting outside every day, even for a few minutes. Hmm . . . take the dog for a walk with my husband?
  • Giving myself permission to fuel up with nourishing food and noticing — just noticing — when the sugar cravings hit.
  • Remembering that juggling practice and brain yoga gets my mind sparking.