Spring has sprung

Posted on March 28, 2012 by

The world is waking up. Spring came very early this year, glancing over the timeframe of our usual winter season. Here in Virginia, the peepers arrived in early February, the weeds (those undesirable plants) and the grass began their growth in March. Snowbells came without their usual predictor: snow was no-show. Well, so far anyway, not much. Hyacinths and tulips and jonquils arrived simultaneously, as did Virginia Bluebells. Trees are budding and my new Styrax is settling in to her new space. My asparagus and rhubarb are peeking out their spring bounty after a winter’s hibernation, as is the Fritillaria in its orange beauty. Honey Bees have begun their annual search for pollen as have those huge hard-shelled black swarming bees (or are they wasps?) Anyway, they hover and dive, and quickly dart away from a swipe of my hand.
‘Tis time to mow again and clean the various garden beds and settle into the routine of tending the earth, as I am inclined to do over the next months, into fall and beyond. I don’t know about you; I enjoy my time outdoors. I get benefits from the sun as well as from the earth. As I tackle various chores and duties, my soul is renewed and revived. I can sense my place in the grander scheme of the universe and contribute as I am able.
Spring can also be a time for personal rejuvenation, as we may switch our clothes from winter to spring and/or summer, or even toss or recycle certain things that have gone out of style, shape, or usefulness. While we eye and handle the clothes of last year (or of many last years) we’re figuring out if we might get another season out of a blouse, skirt, dress, or pants. Are the colors too bold or faded, or is that pattern just too retro? Dare we wear it anyway, or put it back in closet or drawer for another time. Clearing out closets can be cathartic. When we clear out and de clutter, our minds can open to new possibility. New thoughts and new ideas, can come into our awareness. Empty dresser drawers or kitchen drawers – what a gift!
So, guess what I’ve been doing? Right, you guessed it. How ‘bout you? Anyone need some support and accountability with your Spring cleaning? I can do that.
desycampbell@desycampbell.com
Turn your dreams into reality.
Life coaching like no other!

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New Year’s Resolutions and Daily Resolutions Need To Be S.M.A.R.T.

Posted on December 28, 2011 by

What if we didn’t wait until December 31 or January 1 to make Resolutions. My premise is that we can and already make Resolutions every day, because most of us make lists, keep agendas and day-timers, or put reminders on our computers and our cell phones. However we get to that list or agenda, we can be reminded to prepare for meetings, attend meetings, remember to take time for lunch, run errands, pick up and deliver children to afterschool activities, and even take time to exercise ourselves (that’s one of my daily to do’s), and meet a friend or business contact for lunch. Every day we usually create a plan for the day, and that plan can be a Resolution – what we’re going to get done that day.
Creating resolutions is a lot like creating intentions and creating goals. First we need to figure out what exactly it is that we want. Then we need to figure out how we’re going to get it – how we’re going to make it happen, since it can’t just happen magically or through divine intervention. These steps also take some thought, awareness and insight. We might need to get support from someone, or put in some structures to ensure we are on track.

As a coach, I use an acronym S. M. A. R. T. in order to support my clients in setting goals and making action plans. Resolutions and goals need to be: S specific. M measureable. A ability to achieve it yourself. R realistic. T time based (by when will it be completed). You can use this acronym to create your Resolutions, whether for New Years’ or every day.

What areas of your life do you want to create change? Your health and well- being? Your finances? Your relationships? Your home and surroundings? Your career? Your spiritual well-being? Your extra-curricular activities? Your retirement? What about your family? What most needs your attention in 2012? You might make more than one resolution, to create change in several areas of your life.

There are a couple of ways to ensure your Resolutions are fulfilled. One way is to make clear, attainable resolutions which are simple and easy to complete. You can do this by yourself by taking some quiet time to reflect over which area or areas of your life you’re not getting results you’ve wanted. Write down the area and match it with a S.M.A.R.T. resolution, or goal. Keep it posted some place where you can see it daily, in order to keep you focused on your target. You might want to make a Vision Board, by drawing, painting, or cutting out words and images from magazines, and gluing them onto a large poster. You can hang it someplace you’ll see it daily; again it’s the constant reminder for you to keep on track.

Another way to create your Resolutions and goals is to ask someone else to hold you accountable for attaining them. Oftentimes it takes extra eyes and ears to produce results. As a coach, I support you in creating Resolutions, which are also goals, and then creating a plan using the S.M.A.R.T. approach. I hold clients accountable to achieve the results they are after.

So, when you find that you need support in creating the life you really want to live, email dzc@bwellwithin.com Together we can find ways for you to change your habits, empower yourself, listen to your heart, transform your thoughts and turn your dreams into reality. Ready. Set. Go! It’s Time.
www.desycampbell.com

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the power of compliments

Posted on October 26, 2011 by

Everyone loves a compliment, don’t they? 

Everyone deserves a compliment, don’t they? 

Well, as they say, ‘it depends.’  It might depend on whether the receiver thinks they deserve a compliment, or whether they think the compliment is true.  It also could depend on who is giving the compliment.  Do they trust the giver?  Another way to look at it is – can I say this to myself?  That may be the experiment.

In a roundabout way I observed this interesting phenomenon the other evening while I participated in a local community event called Pamper Me Pink. As you might guess, it was an event for women and focused on October being Breast Cancer Awareness Month.  This year 500 showed up for the occasion.  My friend Sharon Clark owner of Pepperberries here in Culpeper, VA began this noteworthy endeavor several years ago; it is truly her baby.  Beside food and drink, the evening included speeches by survivors, a doctor, several presentations of money plus numerous door prizes.  There were many opportunities to pamper one’s self -ranging from stone hand massage, hand waxing, feathers in your hair done by hair salon, bone density scans, JAFRA products, our local hospital physical therapy/wellness center and more.

I was a vendor, too, offering Reiki to the attendees, as well as information about my Coaching services, Bwellwithin.   Some participants had been to my table last year and sat again in my demo chair for five or ten minutes; while others hesitated so their mother, sister, daughter or friend took their turn first before deciding that they wanted to sit in the chair and benefit from Reiki – an  ancient hands on healing technique that comes from Japan.  I learned it in the next county over. Besides doing Reiki with individuals and their pets, I also teach three levels for certification. 

To demonstrate my Coaching services, I wrote small positive comments and printed them on bright pink paper, cutting and folding them into tiny slips, placing  all of them in a beautiful sea green glass bowl which rested inside a heart-shaped handmade rattan basket.  People noticed that nested bowl and basket because it was sitting on a beautiful white long-haired lambskin fleece (homegrown on our family farm.)  Some chose to pat the fleece and enjoy the ultimate of softness, perhaps declining on the enclosed offering.

While I began to call them compliments, a participant came running over and said Affirmations!, as she picked one for herself.  (She had been there last year.)

 I chose positive affirmations such as  I am a survivor,  I am a leader, I am creative, I am magical, When I speak everyone listens, I speak my truth.  There were 25 different ones, hundreds in the bowl.  Some women hesitated reaching for ‘kind of fortune-cookie’ or compliment.  Some didn’t know what an affirmation is.  Others waited to see what someone else had. 

I noticed, for the most part, smiles emerged on their faces, laughter bubbled up from inside, and some quickly shared out loud what they got.  It seemed most were pleased.  I had little to explain or suggest – because these women could already claim their affirmation.  If they shook their head no, no way, I easily mentioned that they had it within themselves, or knew of a time when they were that.  Very few turned their affirmation down. 

So I go back to the original opening sentences above, wondering out loud, what is it about compliments and how do they affect us?  Well, as I’ve learned over time, most of us go the negative when asked how we are, or what the weather is doing, or whatever negative news is being babbled.  Most of us look for what’s wrong and we can surely find it.  I ask you now, to experiment with how you answer questions and look for what’s right.  And you can find that in a myriad of rainbows that we’ve been having this fall.  (Just this week we had a double one!) 

I also ask you to pay a compliment to a parent, a sibling, a friend, a shop keeper or the person who does anything for you.  Skip a beat in the conversation and really mean it when you say “I really love your shoes” as participant at the Pamper Me Pink event last night said to me on her way out the door.  Who knew my shoes could light up someone’s world?  Thank You!

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9/11, ten years later

Posted on September 11, 2011 by

I remember the clear blue skies as I was driving that morning, on my way somewhere and then changing my mind, taking a couple of turns back towards town.  I remember pulling over on the small back country road, as I listened to the news on the radio, stunned. I remember time slowing down that day, to a crawl.  I remember going to the bank, and the teller asking me did I hear about New York and the Trade Towers.  Yes, I nodded, silently speechless.  I remember going back home, the sky still so blue and it was a beautiful late summer day.  That week, as the information came forth, by TV and newspapers, I remember the blue skies; there were no entrails in the sky because the world had stopped travelling by sky over the U.S. 

Ever since then, my world especially has changed when travelling by plane because I am required to go through separate screening by TSA.  At first the pat downs were embarrassing, both to the patter and to me.  They have not gotten easier – in fact, now the pats are downright invading my privacy and comfort.  Even though they say they will take me to a private room, would I want to be in a private room with a stranger?  Wouldn’t I rather want and need witnesses to this extraordinary event?  I am not a terrorist – I know that. 

I do have hip replacements which set off the walk through X-ray machine, after I’ve taken off my shoes, belt, removed coat or sweater, backpack or purse and pushed them separately in plastic bins ahead of me on the track through the camera XRay.  I don’t like being separated from my belongings.  I don’t like waiting in glass cages like an animal under spotlight, until a ‘female assist’ can come to my side, take me to a chair with a pad in front of it that has two footprints for me to uncomfortably straddle holding my arms spread like a wild (!) eagle.  And then she proceeds to humiliate me, by putting on fresh sterile gloves and molesting me in public.  Especially since I don’t look like a terrorist.   I don’t feel like a terrorist either. 

But I can get irritated by the procedure and the time it takes to be pat down.  If I let my attitude sour, it can delay me more.  Why can’t the TSA have cards for us – just like the DMV does – for handicapped – so that we can proceed unscathed and untouched through these check points.  Assembling my belongings and getting dressed afterward reminds me of gym class in Middle School.  Get outta here fast!  But then, that would arouse suspicion.  Calmly conform, I remind myself, it’s over for now.  I am not a terrorist – I know that.

Recently I was interviewed for a local newspaper feature column: “Neighbors you should know.”  The interview was spontaneous, with set questions leading off on tangents, depending on my answers.  We meandered, digressed, returned to point, and even hung curtains afterwards.  (Don’t you ask for help when you need it?)  One of the questions was something like:  “What is something that most people don’t know about you?”  I pondered and mused about it afterwards, and came up with a list and emailed it to the writer.  One of the items is the fact that at 19, I hitchhiked in Europe for the summer  and worked at American Friends Service Committee affiliate service projects.  A ha, I remembered the pacifist in me – The Friends, or Quakers, are pacifists.  See, I know I am not a terrorist.

This same writer about me, is the author of “Veracity,” a book that came out of the events of 9/11.  I met Laura Bynum at a book club meeting in town more than a year ago, where she enlightened us about her book and her take of the Patriot Act – which also came out of 9/11 events. Not long after the book club meeting, I got the book at the library, and found it out of my experience and willingness to read.  It unsettled me and so I returned it.  So, this past weekend I got the book again, and have been reading it off and on.  I am still reading “Veracity,” albeit it slowly, as I write this piece.  I am unsettled by the otherworldness that ought to not be our reality.  I want our old way of life back; I don’t want to be terrified, or become a terrorist.

 The story is not that farfetched and yet it is – it could very well be the truth – the book’s title.   It reminds me of “1984”, Ayn Rand, and a novel by James Patterson that scared me one summer at the beach – something about Colorado and a scientific experiment about making children into birds. I have a vivid imagination, I admit.  One night I actually had a nightmare – waking to my necklace choking me and the ceiling fan blissfully spinning overhead.  Since it was a rainy week at the beach, I finished the book; but I didn’t read after lunch, so my mind would forget before I went to sleep.  So you guessed correctly, I’m reading “Veracity” before lunch too.  And, in my truth, I am not a terrorist.

It’s hard for me to forget that day 9/11 and what happened in our world since.  What I mostly remember is how affected I am even today – that I’m considered a terrorist every time I fly.  I’m guilty of being something I know I’m not, at every airport until I’ve been lined up, stripped of belongings, viewed, beeped, patted, smoothed over, and now even my waistband is twisted and bent outwards  – what could I tuck inside there, I ask?  What next?  Why don’t they know by now that I am not a terrorist?

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Field Report: August 25, 2011

Posted on August 25, 2011 by

The Piedmont of Virginia
EARTHQUAKE! 5.9
My home, about 35 miles from the epicenter in Mineral, Virginia
It felt like I was in the hold of a freighter or a destroyer, plowing through treacherous high seas, on its way somewhere, on Tuesday afternoon. The noise and vibrations were loud – there was no wind, just very loud and jarring motion. I know it lasted a minute, maybe more, even though later reports said it was just 30 seconds.
On August 23, 2011, I was at my desk at 1:51 pm, sending email and not making much sense of the noise and of my dog’s persistent barking. Just before it happened, she bolted out from under my desk, probably sensing disaster. How could it be, here it was a beautiful August afternoon with low humidity and a lower temperature than we’d been usually experiencing. No warning.
While current weather forecasts have been hyping the pending weekend arrival of Hurricane Irene – how fast the winds will blow and how much rain will accompany it and when it might be in the area; all speculation. This Irene is a known and uninvited guest that we could cautiously plan for.
Instead, we got a different deed from Mother Nature, regardless of all the plans, schemes and possible weather forecasts of mankind. Over the past few years we’ve learned that earthquakes are not predictable. They happen out of the blue and are often explained from historical geological and seismological incidents.
I was in the back corner of my house, and the quake oddly felt like it was moving from North to South – rather than from South (from Mineral, the epicenter, is about 35 miles away) running towards the North, where it reached New England. No monster erupted from the earth, and in a matter of very long seconds, the noise went away. It felt like it lasted longer than a minute.
When I realized that the noise wasn’t stopping, I did move away from the windows, towards the front hall, clutching the collar of my barking BDazzle scurrying along beside me. The first noticeable fallen object was the front of a radiator cover which fell out from its long held painted shut clasp and a small painting, which was perched on a small easel on a bureau, fell out of its groove. Nothing else seemed amiss as we passed through the kitchen, the back porch to the backdoor.
When I looked outside my cat seemed non-plussed and the ponies oddly curious for whatever shook beneath their four feet. Whatever it was, it passed by. About 2:45 pm there may have been an aftershock, however, I was outside with the ponies and didn’t feel it; maybe Sweety Pi did as she was walking a bit fast on the line that I held. Later, again at my desk at 8:05 pm, there was another noticeable tremor – very brief, reported 4.2 (maybe a second aftershock?) – and it moved on. Since then, apparently there’ve been a few more aftershocks that have not affected me – I’m not at my desk all the time.
I’ve been home when there’ve been other smaller earthquakes, but they rattled quickly and moved on. One time, a few years ago, I was in the kitchen and it felt like the furnace downstairs was shaking itself off, even though it was turned off at the switch. I had thought at the time it was the quarry down the road blasting. Because, before I replaced my windows throughout the house, when the quarry blasted, my dog would sense a blast before I did, and then all the windows shook in the process. Since I’ve had new windows I haven’t noticed the blasting as much. Whether the quarry slowed down the process or are doing it differently, I don’t know. But this particular time, I called the quarry to see what was happening. Whoever answered their phone said they weren’t blasting and she didn’t know, but when and if I found out could I please let them know what was going on. Turns out it was a smaller earthquake.
We’re not used to earthquakes here; apparently there’ve been some big ones, but they were long ago – probably when the Appalachian Mountains formed, maybe from 460 to 250 million years ago! A small mountain is across the way from my home. When we had to dig a well (within the last fifteen years – I don’t remember) we bored through volcanic ash – I’ve got a jar of it somewhere as a momento.
Ok, I’m Safe, in case you’re wondering. Earthquake watch is over. It’s behind me. So that’s my report from the Piedmont of Virginia.
Excuse me. Now I’ve got to get ready for Irene.

Good Night.

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Sing Out

Posted on July 17, 2011 by

And it was decreed across the lands that all must take a summer breath, a separation from usual routines and activities. Get away – far away or maybe even stay at home and create newness there. Whether vacation or stay-cation, just do something different. You can take a class in a familiar topic or learn a new skill. You can pick up a new exercise habit or make your exercise truly routine. You can go on a cruise and eat dessert first at dinner. (I did this once and was totally surprised and supported by my tablemates and the waiter. While it may have created havoc in the kitchen, I was blissfully sweetened at first bite.)
Summer vacation is a way to recharge one’s batteries, get a new lease on life, and remember what it was like when young, back when time seemed to stand still on sultry summer nights and we caught fireflies or played endless games of Hide and Seek, cooking marshmallows on an open wood fire, and daytimes swimming in the ocean or pool.
If you hadn’t detected, I just came back from camp. I went to get out of my skin, meet new friends, and be in a different and yet familiar environment. I’m a camper at heart, having worked in my lesser youth with the Girl Scouts. This year, my choice was to sing gospels at Omega Institute, in upper New York State. I’ve been there before. So I joined about 60 others – some whom sing regularly, or have sung at this particular workshop for twenty years, or others who came once in a while, or like me – this was my first time with Sister Alice.
As a freshman singer with Sister, all the songs were new to me. The way it works is she puts the group into 3 sections (whichever you sing) – soprano, alto, and combined tenor/bass. Alice sings the song, speaks the words, has the sections repeat the words, and then adds music to the mix. You learn by rote. You can even fake it until you make it. Eventually the song becomes yours and the group. Alice’s brother Fatty plays the keyboard – he keeps in continued and humorous connection with Alice as she shifts sections, lines, and tunes. Her daughter Tia also joined us as a second director– which was a joyful learning experience for all of us.
Since it was Arts Week at Omega, there were many artsy workshops to join for 5 days. You could sing, write, paint, photograph, make rustic furniture, do improvisation, be with flowers, dance, create a mandala, write songs, and even fly on the trapeze. People came from near and far just to mix and be with other creative souls. Conversations are aplenty, food deliciously organic, and self- expression reigned. Evenings could find one in a song circle, meditating, watching the trapeze class take to the high wire, and being part of a talent evening display of all classes and listening to the song writer’s creations and our Gospel Music Community choir as we sang out.
Our music was definitely infectious. People clapped the beat and sang along. The place was rocking. And yes, performing to an adoring audience definitely lifts high the rafters of the hall and of the heart. It’s going to be a tough call next year deciding which workshop to take. I’m definitely putting camp on my list for next summer, what about you?

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The King’s Speech

Posted on February 28, 2011 by

                                                The King’s Speech

I watched some of the Oscar presentations the other night, curious about all the many movies that were up for an award – some I never even heard of and now I have a new list of possibilities to watch.  I admit that I was rooting for “The King’s Speech” to win in ALL categories.  So much so, I went to see it again last week, since it was still playing in my town. 

What a brilliant true life story, embellished and tweaked for public consumption.  According to the back story and various news reports, the author, David Seidler was a stutterer who grew up in England during the time of King George VI’s reign.  He always wanted to write the story of the King who had a stutter, just like him.  They both had vocal coach/tutor/teacher/therapist (whatever you want to call them) and learned how to surmount their speaking difficulties.  Apparently one hurdle in completing the writing project was that the author was asked to wait, in deference to Queen Mother Elizabeth (a wait which might have been 25 years).  Also, there wasn’t a whole lot of material available about the coach, Lionel Logue; ironically 9 weeks prior to shooting the film, a Logue grandson produced diaries and notes – which apparently enlivened the script and added depth to the person Geoffrey Rush portrayed. (I think he deserved Best Supporting Actor).

My kudos go out to Colin Firth for an excellent performance of George VI, who became King during the movie timeframe.  Also, my kudos go out to Helena Bonham Carter who played his wife, the Duchess of York. And the set, and the music – to me the movie was First Rate.

What was interesting to me, at my first ‘screening’, was that the theater was full of older adults – those who grew up in this time, pre-World War II and somehow had connections or recollections.  Granted, there aren’t a whole lot of films that the elder generation takes to; nevertheless, we all were hungry for a piece of history.  I took my Mom, who commented on the wit between Logue and the Duke, who becomes King.  Mom remembers hearing the speech on the radio as a 9th grader.  Besides, her mother was a speech teacher, so Mom knew stutterers.  There was another tie as well – her family welcomed English cousins who had been brought over to safe harbor at their home for several years over the course of the War.  On many accounts “The King’s Speech” filled a memorable matinee.

What “The King’s Speech” shows and reminds me (besides what I’ve written already) is that there are many ways to handle a ‘problem’.  I put it in quotes because it depends on your perspective if it is a ‘problem’ or an opportunity.  That the Duchess went out of the neighborhood to find someone to help her husband showed us courage of conviction.  Sure, the techniques that Logue used were diverse and probably nouveau, to me they were very plausible.  I, too, had speech lessons – as a three year old, after surgery.  At the time, an added benefit for me was learning how to read at an early age. (Yes, I’m still a reader.)  Over time, other situations have given me opportunities for tremendous awareness and growth, self-understanding, empathy, and even humor. 

What’s the bottom line?  For me, life is a leap of faith.

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