Something I was curious about, but repeatedly put off doing, was figuring out my Core Desired Feelings. Danielle LaPorte coined the term in response to traditional goal-setting:
We have the procedures of achievement upside down. We go after the stuff we want to have, get, accomplish, and experience outside of ourselves. And we hope, yearn, pray that we’ll be fulfilled when we get there. It’s backwards. It’s outside in. And it’s running us in circles. What if, first, we got clear on how we actually wanted to feel in our life, and then we laid out our intentions? What if your most desired feelings consciously informed how you plan your day, your year, your career, your holidays—your life?
Wow. Why would anyone ever avoid learning their CDFs? (Sometimes, we're afraid of tasks that we believe will be daunting. Also, what if we realize we've been making it harder than it needs to be, all along?)
Anyway, I did the work. I put in the time. (To be fair, it didn't take very much work or time.) And I figured out my CDFs.
T R U E | E A S E | J O Y | E X P A N S I V E | G L O W I N G | J U I C Y
Since learning them, I've discovered a couple of areas in my life where I made decisions that didn't reflect how I now know I want to feel. Fortuitous, because now, I can correct them!
For example: clothing. Lately, confusingly, I've felt not-quite-right in what I wear. While I work during the day, nights out, to bed, all of it. A creeping feeling of incongruity that I hadn't been able to put my finger on. Writing and coaching from home in athletic leggings and a moisture wicking tank is a distraction, makes me feel pathetic if I never manage to get outside for a run. Having a glass of wine or a casual dinner out in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt feels sloppy and uninspired. And donning an old t-shirt to bed feels like resignation to rest, not enthusiasm for it.
What I've been wearing is inspiring feelings in me that aren't (even remotely) in alignment with how I want to feel.
This past weekend, I happened upon some holiday sales. Mind you, clothing purchases aren't something I've indulged in at all since traveling in an RV; I have half of a very small closet, plus two drawers, to myself. My wardrobe is efficient and earnest and consists mostly of pieces that serve double- and triple-duty. But, deep discounts combined with the creeping incongruity was, at the very least, an opportunity to practice applying my CDFs to shopping decisions.
What did I walk away with? Pajamas that feel special. True to my femininity and my delight for sleep. Luxurious, but not precious. Like my comfort is important, even while I'm unconscious. Loungewear that allows me to move around with my laptop and create, regardless of whether or not I make it outside for that run. (Plus a new moisture wicking shirt in case I do.) And a couple of blouses that make me smile and feel shiny and pretty when I put them on. Luminous from the inside out. Like I contain secrets and antics in equal measure.
And how did I do it? Simple. As I tried on each item, I asked myself, "Will this get me closer to (or further from) my desired feeling of _______?" Shopping has never felt easier, and I've never felt more myself.
Notes from the week of October 4
+ The Deep Exhale (a class on rest with the divine Mara Glatzel)
+ life coach training (almost—I take the exam this week!)
+ LED fairy lights
LOCAL COLOR EXPERIENCED
+ Sisters on the Fly, a women's outdoor adventure group, spent a long weekend at the RV park in their decked-out vintage campers, complete with Halloween decorations (some in Shastas with wings and Bolers that looked like eggs on wheels, others in Lakelands and Southland Runabouts and Scottys)
+ St. Benoît Cremery glass yogurt jars
+ Jane, who walks the RV park almost as much as I do
+ couple from Wisconsin, John and Kathleen, with a dog name Marley (they gave us a tour of their Winnebago View!)