Tag Archives: flow
When we take just the next right step, life gets simpler. By releasing ourselves from the burden of twenty seven steps down the line, our minds can clear a bit. It’s very hard to know what to do next, when the moment is clouded by what to do seven hours or days, months or even years from now. But when we allow our attention to settle gently on just the next right step, there’s room in us to watch, listen and feel for all that’s guiding us in that very moment. And then with seemingly little effort, we move right into the next moment. We’re no longer stuck trying to figure out how this moment intersects with that moment eleven years away.
And once present in the next moment by taking the next right step, another next right step begins to avail itself. Soon the stuckness we felt has begun to move.
troy-caldwell-3dmv.squarespace.com
And this process begins to flow like water: effortlessly moving to the next place, then the next, surmounting and surpassing any obstacle as if it wasn’t even there. More importantly, this process becomes a way of life, and decisions begin to make themselves.
This approach to life and decisions is often initially met by resistance. So many of us were taught that “figuring it out” would solve all our problems. So we go about searching inside and out for ways to avoid hurt, maximize our assets, and put an end to whatever ails us. Many responded to this just-the-next-right-step approach with rebuffs like, “You have to have a plan,” and “You can’t just let things happen,” and, “Nothing would ever get done if we all thought that way!”
And then they try it. So many stories of people fighting to figure something out, resisting the surrender into just the next right step. And then, after months or years of exhaustion to make some aspect of their life better, they let go of the planning and wrestling. And then something happens in their lives that appears nearly miraculous and the struggle ends with a resolution they’d never dreamt. How?
When we empty our minds of all our plans and projections and plots, there’s room for something completely new.
“Just the next right step” doesn’t have anything to do with being lazy or unwilling to work hard. But when we practice just the next right step, we move forward without resisting ourselves, because the next right step comes naturally as something we want to do. And we have energy to do it, because we haven’t been spending our energy mapping out the course of our lives, and the lives of everybody we know.
Just the next right step opens the door to a level of efficiency and effectiveness you may be surprised by. Feel free to tap into the flow.
Had an article all queued up two weeks ago for this last Thursday in 2015: all about the uselessness of worry. Then life served up a chance to practice what I was preaching.
St. Louis saw record rainfall earlier in the week. This photo is my front yard on Monday. On Sunday, the lake my home sits on breached its containment, and the watch ensued. Levels held pretty steady until about 3 a.m., and from there the water steadily rose. 
By 10 a.m. on Monday morning, the lake seemed close to crest, still needing another foot plus to reach my basement. Feeling pretty confident that my neighbors and I had bested the worst of the storm, I went downstairs to exercise a bit.
Well, well, well. What have we here? When I reached the bottom of the steps, the carpet splashed. So even though the water hadn’t reached the exterior level of my basement, the sewer system supporting these low-lying homes couldn’t handle all the water, and it was tumbling up out of my basement drain.
Pretty sure there was one f-bomb, then to work. First I put soup cans somebody gave me under the legs of a table I’d made, and put my drum kit on top of that. Next was the P.A. system up the steps. Then albums and all sorts of stuff where stacked on metal chairs. Lastly, boxes of CD’s and books were taken upstairs.
Eventually, the drain started acting right, and water went back underground. I used a sheet of plywood like a big ole’ squeegee, and pushed water to the drain. Thankfully, the basement is not finished, so only the carpet at the bottom of the stairs was soaked. In time, I hosed down the little sewage that came up, hit the carpet with a shop vac, dried the whole thing with fan and heater and lastly did some disinfecting.
Who knew life was gonna offer up an occasion to experience myself in higher stress. And while my mind wanted to spin scary stories, it didn’t. And that was the whole point of the original article about the uselessness of worry. Unless we’re being chased by a dog or somehow seriously threatened, worry is useless.
Worry cops our energy. It weakens our focus. It steals oxygen from the brain, making clear communication and thinking difficult.
So why do it? Worry can be companion to a mind hooked on overactivity. Worry can give a place for anxious energy to land. Worry can also give us a a sense of self, albeit a broken one. When you think about it, worry begins to sound somewhat self-involved.
So if you care to, please join me in leaving any habit of worry in 2015.
Here’s a three step process to help:
Step 1. Get familiar with your worry. Notice when it’s beginning and ending. Your body can help with its Stress Activated Signals (S.A.S.). These signals include things like ears getting hot, tightness in chest, sweaty palms, choppy sentences and stomach upset.
Step 2. Recognize in this moment of worry, you have the following choices: fight the situation, get away from it, freeze with fear, or flow by taking the next right step, trusting the step after that will be clear once you take the next right step.
Step 3. Choose*
*Consistently, the flow response has proven to be for me the most effective, efficient and comfortable way to react to worrisome situations. It’s also the one that comes with the most peace.**
**May peace visit those whose homes and livelihoods have been seriously compromised by the flood.
Order a copy
