What Lt. Dan Taught Me About Chilling The F*ck Out
Lieutenant Dan: (looking at their fruitless shrimping) Where the hell’s this God of yours?
Forrest Gump: It’s funny Lieutenant Dan said that, ’cause right then, God showed up.
You know that scene in Forrest Gump where Lieutenant Dan + Forrest are on the shrimping boat + Lt. Dan has it out with God atop the boats mast and a whaling storm?
That was me – for sure…insert my head for Lt. Dan’s.
Raging through life, storm after storm with a hint of peace, yet a gusto for more. I never knew when to rest.
I’m a fiery Capricorn, and most of my life has been full of goal setting + go-going coursing through my veins.
I devoured the ever-living-hell out of to-do lists and spit them out with a streak of red check marks that signaled – DONE.
As I’ve grown and life, along with my body, tried to bitch-punch my ass to chill the hell out and slow down, speed racer – I finally began listening to the cues from shamans + adrenal fatigue.
Self-care had to become a PRIORITY, not an OPTION, woman!
You know, cut to the scene in my life where I’m praying for a miracle like Lt. Dan – except mine isn’t a boatload of shrimp, my miracle is to chill out.
For me, not until the Universe threw enough boulders my way to wake me up to lessons swirling in my orbit, did I know…
+ you can indeed bleed out your thoughts and emotions with pen + paper.
+ some deep breaths can connect you to your own conversations with God.
+ a few classy drinks with some soul sisters can cure most everything.
And these nuggets were dropped straight from the cosmos, upside my head:
:: Creativity happens in the white space of life.
:: Creativity flourishes in BE-ing, rather than DO-ing.
:: It’s where Divine downloads get nourished + your soul gets stroked.
:: And rest is as sacred as play.
Rest is as sacred as play.
Rest. Is. As. Sacred. As. Play.
Did your soul ping or throw a cupcake at the computer screen?
This one was HUGE for me, yo!
Recently, I was reading Change Me Prayers – The Hidden Power of Spiritual Surrender by Tosha Silver (p.s. – if you aren’t familiar with Tosha’s work – it’s frickin’ amazing + I can honestly say changed my life).
Ok, in one of the stories she talks about God giving us rest at certain points in our life.
When I read that it was like the Universe bitch-slapped me like only truth singing to your soul knows how.
I was in a season of rest + trying to make it about everything but rest.
And when I say rest, I sure as hell don’t mean sitting on my ass + watching Maury Povich scream, “You are NOT the father!” all day.
No, I’m talking rest in the sense that my priorities have changed + it’s kinda not ALL about Keli right now. The continuous striving I’ve done most of my life could kindly sit the fuck down.
My season of rest is NOT about…
– Pushing + trying to “make” something happen.
– Chasing my dreams while I downplay the fact that I’m a mother + a caregiver and a gazillion other “things.”
My season of rest IS about…
– Actively participating in the evolution of two human beings whose ages are on opposite end of the spectrums.
– It’s about tending to my soul, instead of strategy.
– It’s about reading books for pleasure and nurturing my writing, so when the season changes – my craft is being cultivated instead of ignored or scarcely loved.
– Saying “no” to things that simply just don’t light up my soul, or take me away from my current priorities.
– Honoring the Divine Feminine in me, which I’ve ignored far too long.
Now, I’m not sure how long this flavor of rest will last.
What I do know is enjoying the holy time of rest is no different than when you win a trophy from busting your ass, or score big in a game.
Rest might not be adorned with tons of plaques and medals, but if you don’t take that time-out when that phase is thrown upon you…
You could be left with fractured pieces + broken fragments of your life from being thrown around in the storm like Lt. Dan…
OR, you could grow a set of balls + get yo’self some Lt. Dan legs, prop them babies up while enjoying your season of life + chill the fuck out.
Big Love + Lt. Dan Lessons,