Sure you feed your body. How about your soul?

Here is a pair of questions you may not have been asked before — and maybe never asked yourself:

“How do you feed your soul?” and, “Do you feed your soul?”

While I do not recall having explicitly asked myself these questions, I had an experience this past weekend that fed my soul in such a deep way that these questions showed up. I am moved to bring them to your attention.

What our bodies and hearts need

If you have been reading my Big Ideas for some time, you know I believe that living in high gear, rushing and pushing and striving, robs us of the overall wellbeing we need and deserve.

We can create space in our lives to support our bodies. We can get ample rest, make time to eat healthy food, and devote time to build strength and flexibility for physical ease.

We can honor and nurture important relationships.

And we can create space to pause, reflect, and listen to our hearts.

This last practice (which can be cultivated in a range of ways) enables us to create with intention rather than being in perpetual motion without clarity — and can save us from reacting on the fly as we rush off to attend to the next thing on a jam-packed calendar.

We can lay a foundation for living a good life by bringing all of this awareness to the front of our minds and adjusting our ways of living. For many accomplished women, it takes time and support to test and integrate these practices. (It certainly did for me.)

And, alongside the attention and commitment we can each make to bring new ways of being into our daily lives, there is a deeper level of wellbeing and expansion that’s available for us to explore.

Take a moment to consider your spirit

Whether you prefer thinking about it as your soul, or your spirit, or the deepest longings in your heart, I invite you to bring a bit of curiosity and exploration to what you desire at that level.

In the midst of a busy life, it is easy to miss those messages, or push them off to the side.

Some of us look for those messages and simply cannot find them.

Some are afraid to even look, or do not know where or how to start.

Maybe you are keenly aware of your deep desires. For many of us, stillness and patience (and often help) are needed to make those discoveries.

It is then that we can consider how to honor our deep desires.

Our souls crave nourishment

Over the years, I have seen many ways that women have lost a connection to the deep desires of their souls.

Some have set aside the joy of playing an instrument, or spending time in nature, or working with their hands, or another soul-rewarding practice — often for many years.

Some have let a meaningful part of themselves sit fallow as they pursued a career and nurtured a family.

Some, like me, lacked the belief that it was possible — not to mention feeling I could be “good enough,” — to create. (In my case it was as an artist.) We never dared to even try.

When things like this happen our souls, our spirits, our hearts are robbed of life-enhancing nourishment.

Yet it’s possible return to what we have set aside, or embark on new adventures. We can seek satisfaction as we enter and explore new terrain.

I am living proof that amazing things are possible when you allow yourself to follow the small whisper, or the shout, that you tune into.

My experience may inspire you

I took my first painting class in 2015. Yes, even with a BFA I had never painted. I had stuck to design-related classes, never daring to even enter a painting studio.

And despite my long-standing fear, and feeling that it might be a disaster to try, I knew a part of me yearned to have the experience of painting. I finally decided I would take a painting class and see what happens.

And thus an incredible journey began. It has been one of the most rewarding adventures in my life.

(You can see my paintings here.)

And recently, something new showed up for me.

A marvelous new client in my coaching program teaches writing. And she invited me to participate in a retreat she leads. This new possibility intrigued me, even as it scared me.

I love writing my weekly articles, and I loved writing my book. But this teacher focuses on “writing from the deep voice.” This is creative writing, and the idea of attending her weekend retreat with women who have been honing their crafts with her for some time, made me question if I could possibly do that.

I thought it was likely that, as a rank beginner, I’d not only embarrass myself, I might be mortified.

And yet, I said, “Yes.”

I chose to let myself be a beginner, to be taught and led and inspired. I realized that I’d only know how it would feel or what would happen if I gave it a try. Maybe it would be terrible, or uninteresting, or not a fit for me, and any of that would be fine.

This is what happened.

By saying, “Yes,” I gave a gift to my soul. My soul, that goes to deep places when I paint, loved this new experience.

I let go of self-judgement or caring what anyone else thought of my work and was fully absorbed in the process, step by step by step. One piece of writing after another, reading what I wrote and hearing others read their creations, I was palpably moved and inspired.

I discovered that there is a vast new, satisfying, exciting way to nourish my soul! I am filled with gratitude and joy.

Your soul has yearnings, too

We all have layers of desire waiting to be discovered in deep places.

With guidance and patience and practice, you can access your inner voice with more ease. And you can explore new avenues of expressing it with greater ease, too — whether or not you ever pick up a paintbrush or try your hand at creative writing.

The pace will be different for each of us. The rewards — that I have experienced, and that I been honored to usher in and witness for my clients — are always remarkable.

I invite you to take a new step towards creating a truly rewarding future today.

And I’d be delighted to hear about the deep yearnings in your soul. If you’d like to share them simply email me. (And if the writing experience sounds intriguing, I’ll be happy to introduce you to my writing teacher.)