Wild, Willing, and Wise, page 1
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To the dreamers who dare to envision a more just and beautiful world
THIS BOOK IS FOR YOU IF
You want to LIVE in this world … to be fiercely engaged, wildly creative, unfailingly experimental, wonderfully confused, seriously delighted, and compassionately vulnerable.
You are ready to throw your arms up and embrace this ride of an embodied, real life and gain the skills for navigating it.
And now, a warning.
WARNING AND AGREEMENT
Proceed with caution, dear ones …
I invite you to review and sign the following hella serious agreement before you go any further with this book.
I, ___________________, do hereby read and agree with the following:
I will do my best to NOT use the writings in this, or any other book, against myself. This means I will refrain from comparing, punishing, or criticizing myself or others based on what I am learning. I will not believe my unkind, judgy inner voice and will tell my critical mind to chill. I will also refrain from using the following pages to shittily judge anyone else.
I understand that the information contained in this book is intended as a useful model and a helpful guide, not a dogmatic, rigid, all-knowing tome that I must fit myself into in order to be “good” or “healed.” I will refrain from creating more rules and instead use this book to dismantle, dissolve, and bring in more inner freedom, powerful play, and creative action.
I agree that there is no one way to use this book. There is only what works for me, which might change, and for which I grant myself permission in advance. I give myself permission to do all the exercises in order, do none of the exercises, or only do the exercises that speak to me.
Signature ___________________________ Date _____________
A STORY ABOUT A LITERAL BIG FUCKING RIVER
“Wait a minute. Are those eighteen-foot waves?” I asked, turning to my then husband with the word WHAT?! screaming from my eyes.
“Yup,” he affirmed, casually smiling at me. He was showing me a video of what I had unknowingly signed myself up for.
Holy fuck.
It was the summer of 2005, and I was about to raft the Grand Canyon with my husband, his father, and a small group of longtime river rats (as they called themselves).
To date, I had been on exactly one trip down a river, when I enthusiastically agreed to join my then fiancé to raft the Arkansas River in Colorado. Mid-rapids, however, we discovered that his old blow-up kayak had a hole.
I was not impressed.
We were about to spend two weeks on a river that can eat boats and occupants in a single bite.
I put the huge waves out of my head. I was with two experts. What could go wrong?
(Cue laughter track from the universe here.)
Before the journey, we spent days planning meals, gathering needed equipment, and studying the Grand Canyon river map, which pinpoints and describes each rapid and helpfully offers suggestions on how to survive.
We entered the river at Lee’s Ferry. For the first few days, I was soothed by the wild beauty and sweet ease of being on the river. Smooth water carried us quietly for miles. I watched dragonflies kissing their own reflections and spent hours looking for faces in the cliffs and clouds. The most work I did was getting sunburned.
Even with so many experts and a map to tell us of upcoming rapids, we were lulled by the soft, gentle lapping.
Then the first disaster happened.
One moment, I was contentedly watching the ripples my paddle made in the water, and the next, I was wondering about the poor person making such awful, dying-cat noises as they struggled to breathe.
It took me a few seconds before I realized that that person was me. As I was slammed back into my body, water churned over and around me, so cold I couldn’t get air into my lungs. Each short, scared inhale sounded like a teapot whistling next to the dying cat; each exhale was a whimper. The life vest kept my head above water, but I was moving so fast and I was so tiny in this vast flow that I couldn’t make sense of anything.
And then I remembered about my husband and father-in-law. Were they okay?
I panicked anew.
I managed to turn around and see the distant shape of my husband’s head and shoulders, his arm pointing right. Of course. Swim to shore.
I angled my body toward the cliffs and started kicking and flapping my arms, clawing my way into shallower waters.
Finally, I reached solid, blessed land.
Later, when the shaking stopped and we were finally warm and dry around a fire, we reviewed what happened.
It was a tiny rapid, a short stretch of three- to five-foot waves. The last wave playfully slapped the back edge of the boat with just enough force to send us all flying into the air like birds and then plummeting into the water like rocks.
This was day three of our journey. There were eleven days to go, with many more rapids and the looming presence of Lava.
Lava is the name of the grandmama of all rapids on this section of the Colorado River. It was she on the video my husband showed me before our journey, the one with the eighteen-foot waves. Even the seasoned, gray-haired river rats talked about her in an almost worshipful whisper.
I spent the next ten days learning how to read the river. Gone was the previous casual confidence. We consulted the maps every evening to see what was coming. We pulled the boats out of the water and scouted before almost every rapid.
We knew that even with all our study and scouting that the river is mysterious, powerful, and in charge. All we could do was be as prepared as possible, ready for the unexpected.
LAVA DAY
By Lava day, I was stronger, more confident on the river, and had developed a deep respect for who was actually in charge here.
By now, I knew several things:
The only way out is through.
Being an expert is helpful, but it doesn’t mean you won’t capsize.
Take it slow, look where you are going, make a plan. Scout.
Surrender to the flow.
We are all in this together.
Good guides make everything better.
After Lava, I added another one to my list: 7. Don’t jump out of the boat when the going gets tough.
My eyes had grown keener as I started to understand the flow and dance of water, rock, elevation, and canyon width. The biggest rapids happen when elevation drops quickly or the canyon walls narrow. The flow in front of big rocks can pin your boat with thousands of pounds of water; the watery holes after big rocks can suck your boat under without a thought. The waves can shift direction so quickly that going too slow through a rapid, going too fast, or getting turned at an angle can all mean that in a fraction of a second you are in the water instead of in the boat. Eddies and whirlpools and hidden rocks can snag or slow or sink your vessel. Sometimes there is only one path through a rapid; other times there are multiple choices of how to navigate.
We had studied the now-tattered map and knew that the way through Lava was along the right side. As we approached, the roar of water made talking, or even thinking, impossible. We rowed to shore, pulled the boats out of the water, and hiked up the steep rocks so we could see the rapid clearly from above.
This part of the Colorado River is about sixty feet across, and the elevation drops steeply. In the middle of the river is a twenty-foot rock with a fifteen-foot drop behind it and a whirlpool big enough to easily disappear a school bus. To the left of the school-bus-disappearing rock are so many rocks and rapids, which render this side impassible.
To the right is one thin possibility that demands hitting the entrance into the rapid at just the right place, staying between a series of rock sentinels, and then halfway through paddling hard on the left to keep from getting pulled into the big-rock whirlpool.
The final ten or so waves are those mother mountain ones, and the only way through is to keep paddling up the wave so you have enough force to break through the top and ride the crest down to the next one.
As those from our boat watched from our scouting spot, the first boat in our group hit a wave and flipped over, scattering people and oars like marbles bouncing off a table. I looked around and wondered if there was any way I could climb out of the canyon instead of going through Lava.
But that opportunity had passed miles ago. The only way out was through.
We had rehearsed the pathway so many times: staring at the map, reviewing our plan over meals, and now while staring down at Lava from a distance. But as we entered the wide mouth of Lava, I realized NOTHING could have prepared me for this reality.
The sound and spray of rushing water made it feel like we were surrounded b
Paddle right! Stop! Paddle left hard!
About halfway through Lava, I was convinced we were going over. We were airborne for so long, water pounding everywhere, that my body dove for the side, terrified of getting pinned under the boat.
Out of the corner of his eye, my father-in-law saw my diving shape, grabbed my ankle, and pulled me back into the boat.
“It’s okay!” he shouted. “Keep rowing!”
I kept rowing.
And then we were through the last big wave, laughing and howling and high-fiving our oars.
WE DID IT!
Three seconds later, we were paddling hard on the left to help the crew that flipped before us, and to be ready for the next boat to traverse Lava.
And the river kept flowing.
HI, FELLOW TRAVELER, SO GLAD YOU ARE HERE
Welcome to the river of life.
Sometimes the water is smooth and sweet, sometimes stagnant and smelly, sometimes frightening and sinister. Yup, that is life. A churning, unpredictable mix of beauty, brutality, benevolence, and broken bits.
Whether you are:
centered in your being and enjoying the ride
huddled on the shore unwilling to take part
frantically trying to save everyone else in the water (except yourself)
flailing in the choppy, rocky waters and feeling like you are drowning
Or all of the above, you multidimensional being …
I see you.
This book is a manual to help you to align with the energy of the river of life and flow with it.
What this is not is a manual to align with life the way you think it should be. Instead, together we will explore life as a river that constantly moves, changes, and creates new pathways. We will tap into the power of letting go. Because when we stop trying to force the river to flow how we think it should, we gain the energy, resources, and vision to flow through the stills and the rapids alike.
I will introduce you to the three energy guides, Wild, Willing, and Wise, to help you know when to put down your oars and rest in the smoother waters and when to pick them up and paddle like hell through the rapids. They will show you how to explore the waters of life (Wild energy), support yourself through the rocky, churning waters (Willing energy), and let your past provide momentum rather than being a damn anchor (Wise energy). And I’ll say this one more time so that your beautiful self can really take it in: there is no right or wrong way to use this book. I promise. I’ll share a transformational framework, introduce you to some new guides (who may not be so new to some of you), and offer up simple exercises, visualizations, and ponderings to help you access more inner freedom, powerful play, and creative action.
Before entering into the rest of the book, set aside ten minutes to reflect on what it means to you to be wild, willing, and wise. What are you most interested in having more of and why?
BEING WHERE YOU ARE …
For this first exercise/step, let’s acknowledge where you are. You can’t get started on the journey if you don’t know where you’re departing from!
Whether you feel like you are drowning or flowing in this moment, you are welcome here. You are invited to find your true inner guidance.
So many of us are exhausted, frustrated, and stretched thin by trying to be the “perfect” person: strong, confident, and whole. But this image of perfection is an illusion that keeps us trapped in comparisons and power struggles, not-enoughness, and toxic criticism. For the times we are in, we must learn how to stay aware, brave, and compassionate about what is going on within ourselves and the world around us.
Have you ever tried attacking water with your illusionary sword of productivity or safety or spirituality?
Damn that water. It won’t behave, will it? And, beloveds, the truth is that life, other people, and even our bodies don’t behave like we would like them to. While we often envision strength as easily chopping through fears and obstacles with a sharp sword of determination, that is a limited, narrow view. The belief that chopping and severing what we don’t like or need is the only way through life is damaging to our relationships, health, and creativity. This is not aligning with life but cutting down life, and ourselves, to conform to unrealistic standards of perfection.
Together we will explore, dismantle, and reimagine what it means to be strong. We’ll find the power of true tenderness and the promise of grounded sustainability. We will reclaim our full heart-centered self and make a conscious, clear choice to honor the river of life. We will practice the energetic and emotional skills to ride its waves and rest into the sweet lulls. And we will begin exactly where we are.
WHAT IS YOUR CURRENT RELATIONSHIP TO THE RIVER OF LIFE?
Which statements feel most true for you at this time?
0 = Doesn’t feel true at all
5 = This is my daily mantra
Be honest, dear traveler of the inner realms.
____The fucking river should just do exactly what I want it to.
____I have no power over the river. I am helpless.
____If I am just one with the river, I will feel no bad things and I’ll just be happy.
____If I keep swimming upstream, I’ll get there, damn it!
____I have to save everyone in this river!
0–5: You are a river of life badass!
6–10: Paddling with one oar is hard.
11–15: You are paddling upriver, sweetheart.
16–25: Let’s get you back in the boat.
What do you think your score is telling you?
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Intuitively, what do you think you need to be a river-of-life badass?
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