Close your eyes and imagine yourself in a long dark wooden hall, standing in front of an army of more than 1000 many-armed kannon statues.
They are about the same height as you and are staring directly at you.
They stand proud, several rows deep.
How do you feel?
Tucked away down a side street near the Eastern Mountains of Kyoto is this lovely garden, in the grounds of Murin-an Villa. Simple, peaceful, and more than often yours all to yourself…
Housed in an old bath house in the north of the Nishijin textile district, Cafe Sarasa oozes character. The old wash taps remain on the walls, which still bear glossy mosaics from a time when they would be splashed daily.
The Imperial Palace gardeners have brilliantly designed the garden so there is always something in bloom. These late summer flowers made me smile as I took a final stroll through the grounds…
Any bold move, big change or great adventure requires a sacrifice of some kind. This is true in business, life and travel. It’s simple economics – every choice you make has an opportunity cost. Every dollar you spend on a plane ticket is a dollar you can’t spend somewhere else. And the bigger the challenge, the greater the risk… but of course the bigger the reward can be.
Today I found myself sat pondering what we have missed by taking a leap, packing up and moving to Japan for six months.
When I look back on my time in Kyoto, one of my fond memories will be of time spent wandering around the cities many tiny shops. There is something very special about the way in which Japanese people lay out their spaces, present products, and create an experience for guests (which is what you feel like, rather than a customer).
I am talking about shops like this one – Pao is a clothing and ‘zakka’ accessories/stationery/lovely things store run by the vivacious Junko.
I visited her on the day of a blue moon, and after we had chatted a while about papermaking and all sorts, she reminded me to look up to the night sky for luck and happiness that evening…
Next to the river,
on a bench,
staring up at the sky,
eagles wheeling overhead,
gentle breeze blowing
and the lazy sound of a saxophone drifting past.
This is where I hold my strategy meetings these days.
Who says you need to be in an office?
It’s not where you are that counts, it’s what you are thinking…
Today’s shared story comes from Carrie Schmitt in Seattle, USA, who shares how a life-threatening allergy forced her to do what she loves.
I didn’t do what I loved until I was forced. It was a matter of survival, at least emotionally. In 2009, I developed a life-threatening allergy to heat. It. Was. Devastating. I couldn’t leave my home for 4 months because of the extreme heat and humidity in Ohio.
Gone were spending leisurely days at the pool with my children or tinkering in my beloved garden, which gave me a joy so pure and connected to the rythmn of life that I didn’t know how I could survive without it.
Also, gone were the mundane errands, such as shopping and carpooling. Suddenly, for the first time since college, I had time for myself. I was often left home alone while my husband and kids went about their summer lives.
Thinking that my life was over (at least an outdoor, physically active life that I loved) is what finally pushed me to pursue a dream I had long ignored — to become an artist. I distinctly remembered thinking to myself, “Well, if my life is over, I might as well do what I want and paint.”
I picked up a paintbrush, experimented and began taking online art classes. Slowly, I felt alive and excited again. I had a reason to wake up early in the morning — to paint flowers instead of plant them.
This act of desperation—forcing myself to do what I love and have always loved which is to create—was the first of many gifts that my dreadful heat allergy has given me. Strangely, my dis-ease realigned my life in ways that made my dreams start coming true.
Today, my family and I reside in a more temperate climate in our farmhouse on a wet and wild mountain in Washington — another long ago abandoned childhood dream come true for me thanks to my heat allergy.
I have my own detached studio at our home and am an artist who recently launched my first professional website, which became a transformative moment for me when I realized that I was actually working and living as an artist!
I’ve noticed throughout my life that when you don’t follow your authentic path and do what you love, the universe gives you signs. Signs I ignored for so long that the universe finally screamed at me to sit down and paint.
I’m in a state of bliss because I finally listened. My wish for you is that you find the strength to listen to your soul’s deepest whispers too and don’t wait until you think your life is over to follow your dreams.
[Images courtesy of Carrie Schmitt. Find out more about Carrie on her website or connect on Facebook and Pinterest]
***
See here for more inspiring *shared stories or to submit your own!
Nijo Castle – an inspiring way to start the day
Here in Japan I don’t really have a schedule. The days are wide open, and each morning I sit down and work out how to spend the precious hours of the day ahead. Now we are more than half way through our adventure this time is feeling even more precious, and more than ever I am conscious about the choices I am making about how I spend my time.
The other day I had a Skype call scheduled for 11am and back at home I would normally have spent the hours before it catching up on emails etc. But instead we spent an impromptu hour after breakfast exploring a 500-year old castle – and guess what? I came back in time for the Skype call, very awake and already inspired before our conversation had even begun.
As a meticulous planner in the past, I am slowly trying to let go of the reins a little… not completely but enough to let my instinct guide my day, and reveal new ways of travelling through it…
How do you spend your time these days?
