MY JOURNAL PROMPT today was: Ask for what you want.

Sometimes I wonder if I want too much or think about what I want too often. Maybe in wanting so much I buck and twist and resist what is, missing the point of life entirely. Perhaps what I need most is to be fully in each moment, not wanting anything. Is that even possible? Wanting seems to be as natural and normal as breathing.

I want to be at peace. To experience and appreciate each moment as perfect, just the way it is. I want to rest in the knowledge that I am in the right place at the right time, that all is well, and that there is nothing I have to do to make things right.

I want to know that I cannot fail; I can only be in the process of achieving. I am either there yet or not. Some things take longer than others.

I want to make time in my day, each day, to enjoy nature. I want to walk under a tree, feel the breeze on my skin, look at the sky and feel in awe of the greatness of nature.

I want the freedom to be me and not feel pressure to conform to others’ views of who I should be—in any role—whether it be as parent, girlfriend, mother, grandmother, or simply a woman in this society. I want to be who I am, authentic, in each moment.

That thought brings me round to the question: What does it mean for ME to be authentic? Do I know who I am?

The older I get, the more I resist defining myself with words. When I was younger, I described myself by my relationships to others or by my activities. “I’m a mother (teacher or wife or secretary or writer or photographer),” I would say when asked to tell someone about myself. And no matter how much I talked, even if I shared my entire life story with someone, the answer was always inadequate to the question, “Who are you? No, who are you really?”

Here is what I now know: I am more than roles or relationships, and I am more than what I do each day, though this was the language I was taught for defining myself in this world. It is in relationship to things outside our selves that we construct the borders and lines of our Selfs. In the end, we succeed only in constructing fences.

So how then do I know myself? By my values and my desires. I value freedom. I value choice. I value creativity. I value peace and joy and love. I value vulnerability and honesty.

Freedom, personal freedom, is always on top for me, and I wonder why this is so. Is it because I had so much freedom as a child? Or is it because when I was young I felt so much pressure to conform all the time, pressure that I often bowed to out of wanting to feel accepted? In trying so hard to be what others wanted me to be, I didn’t allow myself to be true to this Self I am finally remembering. I needed courage to stand up to the scrutiny of others.

So that’s what all this wanting is about … freedom to be true to Self. Freedom to make those authentic choices that I intuit are best for me, regardless of how other people see them.

I want to be true to my own values. In each moment. Wanting … being … authentic.

Simplicity. The word conjures up images of ease, a sense of effortlessness, a lightness of being. It implies leaving things in their natural states, decorating sparsely, and having furniture with clean, straight lines. It yearns for straightforward communication.

My life has never been simple, though I’ve often longed for it to be so. Family, friendships, work, avocations of music, photography, writing, and studies have always kept me busy. Life is hard work. It’s a body of water—an ocean, a river or a lake—in which I am always swimming, working to keep afloat.

I’ve created my complicated life, though I’ve sighed for the kind of clean simplicity one sees in magazines. But that kind of simplicity costs a lot of money, and I’ve rarely had that. Perhaps simplicity is really a state of mind, an attitude, an approach to life. A person who approaches life simply, lies on her back, arms out, back slightly arched, and allows the river to take her where it will. She flows through life, looking at the sky, content to be where she is without thrashing about or trying to swim upstream or make it to the nearest rock.

Contentment and simplicity are closely linked.

Once cannot lead a simple life without being content with simple things: the clouds in the sky, the occasional bird overhead, a glimpse of autumn-tinted leaves in an overhanging tree, the sunset and sunrise. These things all give pleasure. One must be ready to receive to live a simple life. And not make everything into work.

I know these things, yet I can’t think of a simple time in my life, except perhaps when I was a very young child. And that image, the image of me, dancing on a hill feeling the wind on my skin, is such a fleeting, long-ago thing. It’s an image I manufactured. I know, because I can see myself from the outside as though in a movie. How can I do that, if it’s truly my own experience? I can remember the feelings, the sensations, the joy. But I can also see myself from the outside. I don’t think one can really do that. That’s not a memory; it’s a story of a memory.

Perhaps that’s what journaling and other forms of memoir writing is about: memories as examined from the outside, externalized, so that they become a fixed part of one’s stories about life, about one’s experience and development. I could have chosen anything as a hallmark of my young childhood. I could have chosen the time my brother Michael spray painted my favorite bear yellow and threw it in the bushes for me to find months later. Yes, I remember that quite clearly. I was heartbroken when I found it. But the poster child of memories, for me, is that dance on the hill. Really more a mound in the lawn. Not a hill. But to me, a height I had conquered so that I could feel the sky.

In that moment, life was simple. Not an ocean, a river, or a lake. Not a thing at all. Not even a process. Perhaps simplicity is simply a moment in time, fully experienced and fully appreciated.

In the Editor’s Note, in the recent issue of The Writer’s Eye Magazine, I wrote briefly about how life never seems to cooperate with our well-laid plans and gave advice about what to do when things go askew: take a deep breath and take time to view things from a larger perspective. Little did I know at the time that my own life, which seemed hectic enough at that point, would become even more unpredictable.

It’s time to take my own advice and remember to breathe deeply, moving my sense of center from my mind, with its myriad of  worries, to my body. This brings me back to the present moment and reminds me that this moment is really all that is actually happening—not all that stuff swirling around in my head—and this moment is all that I have to deal with.

Breath is an amazing thing, when you think about it. While most of the time we breathe unconsciously, letting our bodies control the process, consciously controlling or simply becoming aware of our breathing naturally calms us. It’s the basis for the beginning of most meditation practices. Breathing deeply moves more oxygen into and through our bodies, giving us a stronger sense of well-being. Our physical senses become more acute, colors seem more vivid, and it’s easier to be grateful for all the good things in that moment.

Entering the word “breathing” into the Google search engine results in pages of links—not only about the technical and scientific aspects of breathing, but also abut the spiritual and physical benefits of conscious breathing. There are pages about Yoga, Tai Chi, Conscious, Optimal, and other breathing-centered sites. The common claim of all these sites is that breathing with intent and with focus promotes physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being, and increases physical energy.

If you’d like to explore this with me, here are the steps I follow:

1) Sit quietly in an upright, comfortable position.
2) Close eyes and breathe in slowly through the nose, to a count of 7 or 8.
3) Hold breath for a count of 7
4) Exhale slowly through the mouth for a count of 8-10, focusing on expelling all the air in the lungs.
5) Repeat steps 2 through 4.

Ten to fifteen minutes is a good amount of time for a first session. As you breathe, really focus on the flow of air into and out of your body. If it’s helpful to maintain focus, think of a word and repeat that word (a mantra) while breathing.

Ah, yes. So much better.

Now that we’re calmed and centered, I’d like to invite you to view the latest issue of The Writer’s Eye Magazine. While you’re there, get your FREE instant download of the current issue.

LIMITATIONS. None of us like them, yet limitation is the fertile ground in which the seeds of creativity sprout and grow. Without the challenge of limitation, there is no need for creativity. We would never be pushed into seeing things in new ways, because there would be no incentive. When we are limited by circumstance, situation, or supply, we are forced to to work around that barrier in order to accomplish what we want. Challenges, when approached positively, cause us to exercise the muscles of our creative minds.

A FEW YEARS AGO, I taught desktop publishing at a local community college. When giving assignments, I would often limit students to certain themes or designs and then challenge them, within those limitations, to come up with something original. Sometimes I would confine them to only a few colors, as well. The variety of solutions that students created to express some aspect of themselves — their thinking, ways of seeing, or even a sense of humor — was eye-opening. On the other hand, when the assignments were less restrictive, the results were correspondingly less inventive.

THINK ABOUT your own life. Most of us have experienced at least one time in our lives when we had few limitations and lots of options. When we have too many alternatives, we often find it difficult to choose and end up in a kind of dysfunctional quagmire of indecision. But give us only one or two things to work with, and we are suddenly focused, direct, and actively on the move, making progress. There’s truth to the old sayings that “busy people get the most done” and that “when you have the most things to do, you are the most organized.”

LIMITED TIME increases productivity. Limited resources increase creative output. It follows logically, then, that if you want to develop your creative muscles, you need some type of obstacle or constraint. However, in order to work, the constraints must be real — or at least perceived to be real — in order to kick start our creative engines. Like setting the clock five minutes fast to trick ourselves into thinking it’s later than it is, it rarely works, because we know the clock has been moved forward.

HOWEVER, when life doesn’t hand us a set of limitations, we can and do trick ourselves. For example, some of us do it by procrastinating. We are the types who are more creative and/or productive under pressure. At this point, you might be asking, “How can I limit myself and build my creativity?”

• Write with your opposite hand.
• Do things backwards.
• Work in an unfamiliar location.
• Consciously limit your time, materials, or resources (only paint in shades of yellow, or write a long poem using only 20 different words).
• Make a gourmet meal with only three ingredients and three different herbs or spices.

LIMITATIONS. When we feel hemmed in or chafed by a sense of restriction, all we have to do is remember that limitation is a call to action. A challenge to flex our creative muscles and transcend the mediocre.

AND NOW, I’d like to invite you to see how a group of creative people rise to the challenge of integrating writing and art. Visit The Writer’s Eye Magazine, and get your FREE instant download of the current issue.

Intuition: it’s a kind of knowing or sensing of information. People who are intuitive are generally more creative, flexible, independent, and confident. Many believe that intuition is a spiritual connection to our inner, higher self and/or to God.

We all have it. Yet, some people seem to be better at tapping into their intuition than others of us. Why is that? And what can you do to improve your intuitive abilities and access your own inner sage?

There are several qualities demonstrated by people who more easily access and respond to their intuition. These are:

• Awareness — the ability to be fully present in the moment.
• Calm — the ability to achieve a state of inner calm, clearing their senses from the overload of information “static,” and allowing them to make room for new information.
• Receptivity — an ability to be open to receive whatever comes.
• Openness to possibilities — a willingness to take a risk and act on that information.

To help you develop those abilities and “grow” your intuition, I offer three simple activities.

1) Get out in nature. This tried and true activity works to activate all four qualities in our mind and body. A walk in the woods, sitting by the edge of a river, or even sitting in your backyard, listening to the birds sing at sunrise can work. It’s nice to be able to climb the nearest mountain, but it doesn’t have to be a remote location to work. The main thing is to find a place that has enough nature (trees, rocks, water, and open space) to allow you to be solitary and not have to interact with other humans.As you walk (or sit or stand), pay attention to the sounds and sights around you. Listen to the birds. Breath deeply and listen to the sound of your own breath. Look a the bright green of the leaves, and the silver reflections of the brook. Getting out in nature will increase your awareness, calm, receptivity and openness to new possibilities.

2) Change your perspective. Nothing beats increasing your awareness than breaking your ruts and changing perspective. I’m talking about sitting in a different chair at the dining table, switching offices at work, or driving a borrowed car. Do things differently, look at the room from a different chair, and I guarantee it will take you out of autopilot and bring you into the present.

3) Laugh. Set the timer for two minutes and start laughing. This technique, called laughing meditation, is harder than it sounds. Think of something funny, and if that doesn’t work, just say “ha, ha, ha, ha…” until you actually laugh. Laugh so hard your stomach hurts. Do this with friends, and you’ll feed off of each other, keeping the momentum going. Two minutes will seem like forever, but when the timer goes off, you may find it difficult to stop. Do this early in the morning, and you’ll approach the day with more energy and a spring in your step. Another bonus: after all the activity, you inner being will quiet down and be more open to listening.

Accessing your inner sage through intuition is Intuition is not difficult. It may just take a little practice. Do one or more of these activities, then open yourself to new ideas and possibilities. They may come in the form of an opportunity that is presented to you by someone else, a hunch or gut feeling about something, a mental picture, or even words spoken in your head, but as if someone was standing next to you. When this happens, take note. Better yet, take action and see what happens.

And now I’d like to invite you to see how others express their intuitive creativity. Claim your FREE Instant PDF download of The Writer’s Eye Magazine when you visit http://www.thewriterseye.com.

From Amber Lea Starfire — The Inspiration Facilitator