I’m struck by the intensity of my response to sincerity.

A woman I coached sent me 3 emails this week thanking me for changing her life.  The sincerity of her gratitude created huge bursts of love in my heart.  I had only spent 90 minutes on the phone with her, hardly enough to qualify the waves of love I was experiencing.  Yet, her emails reached places in my heart that are buried deep within my core.   Yes, her gratitude touched me, but it was her sincerity that penetrated and reached those deep places inside me.

I’m working with the successful CEO of a large global high tech corporation.  In our first conversation, he told me about all the problems he’s having, pulling the organization out of the past, inspiring them to create an innovative and brilliant new future.  His sincerity about the problems, his sincerity about wanting my help, made me feel honored.  He evoked my respect.  I immediately felt I would do anything for him.

In both cases, their sincerity made me want to give them everything I have, give them everything of myself I possibly could.  I was rather amazed at the force of my own spontaneous reaction, the overwhelming desire to give.

If you look it up in the dictionary, sincere means “without pretense, truthful, honest, the same in actual character as in outward appearance, genuine, real”.  It comes from the Latin sincerus which meant “clean, pure, whole, uninjured”.   Uninjured?

I find it fascinating, the concept that someone who is not sincere has been injured.  I think that’s true.  Something inside them has been injured, some injury from which they’ve not recovered is what’s keeping them from being sincere.  They need to recover from injury to restore their sincerity.  What a powerful concept.

I also see how, when someone is sincere, I’m not afraid they’ll injure me.  Whereas, when someone is insincere, I always have the feeling they wouldn’t hesitate to injure me.

So I definitely see the relationship between sincerity and injury.

I recently saw on YouTube how the Maori of New Zealand greet each other.  So different from my culture.  I live in a world of handshakes.  The handshake, which goes back as far as 5 BC, was originally intended to communicate sincerity, a gesture of peace by demonstrating that the hand holds no weapon.

The Maori have the Hongi, pressing together one’s nose and forehead at the same time.

In the Hongi, the ha (or breath of life), is exchanged. This breath of life can also be interpreted as the sharing of both people’s souls.

An awesome exchange of sincerity.  What a powerful way to greet the other person.

I live in a world where many people are trying to impress.  In this world, the first sacrifice is sincerity.

I think it must be beautiful to be part of a culture that promotes a great sincerity, that’s not afraid to get close up and share the breath of life before the conversation begins.

Love,

Ingrid

 Have you ever noticed there’s a tremendous amount of telepathic communication passing between us that goes on all the time?  I’m not talking about anything extraordinary, I actually think it’s pretty ordinary, everyday.  But we don’t talk about it much and not everyone’s tuned in, aware of it.

I’m talking about those flashes where, without any words being spoken, we know exactly how someone’s feeling or what they’re thinking.

It could be as simple as that surprised, “I’m really happy to see you” look that flashes on their face when you walk in the room and you just know how much you mean to them.

Telepathy is defined as “transference of thought by some means other than the normal sensory channels” (whatever “normal” means, my 6^th sense feels perfectly “normal” to me).  It comes from the Greek – tele – “from afar” and pathos – “feeling”.   It’s being able to feel the other person from afar, without words.

Some invisible wave carries our wordless thoughts and feelings.

Today I’ve been really noticing it, noticing throughout my conversations how much telepathy happens.  It’s been seeming like 80% or better has nothing to do with the words, there’s a whole unspoken conversation going on, that’s the real conversation.

I went for a great hike with a neighbor this morning and when it was over and I looked in her eyes I could tell she didn’t want it to be over.   Nothing she said, I could just tell, so I hung out and talked with her some more and I could just tell she was happy I wasn’t going yet.  I sensed the exact right moment when it was okay to go, her eyes were bright and she was grinning when we said, “See you later.”

I talked to another neighbor and I could sense she was worried the party her teenagers had last night made too much noise.  Without her asking I reassured her it wasn’t too much at all and I could see she was flooded with relief.

When I got home I could tell my macho Norwegian Forest cat wanted me to pick him up, I have no idea how I knew, I just knew.  I picked him up and started dancing with him in the kitchen and he gave back a loud macho rumbling purring throughout the song.   I could sense when he had enough and wanted to get back down, I put him down and he looked up and gave me a cat grin.

I was talking to a friend and she somehow sensed what I was telling her was really important to me.  She put everything down and started paying double attention to what I was saying which made me feel so grateful.

A client texted me and I could read between the lines she needed to talk so I offered to meet in person with her and this normally reserved very professional high level executive texted back she loved me.

A client on the phone told me about a mid-year review he had with his VP boss.  He was recounting the details rather matter-of-factly, sounding almost bored, but I could just tell he had been deeply wounded by his boss’ comments and I said, “What a monster!”, the dam broke and my client gushed for 10 minutes how awful, demoralizing, deeply painful it was and how he didn’t even want to go back to work.  At the end of our conversation I could tell he felt restored, strong, ready to take on his beast of a boss, and I could also tell he’s going to come out on top of their next conversation, I could just tell he’s going to have his boss apologizing all over the place and I won’t be surprised whatsoever when he tells me all about it.  I could just tell.  Nothing to do with words.

I could tell something I said to one of my staff made her unhappy, I looked at her thinking, “What just made you unhappy?”  I didn’t ask it out loud but she looked at my face and totally got it and started telling me.

One of my clients gave an important presentation.  I knew what time it was scheduled and during that time I was keenly aware of how intensely I believed in her.  Afterword she texted me she was basking in the glow of hitting it out of the park, she texted, “Thank you for believing in me.  I could feel it like a wave as I was standing in front of 400 people about to start speaking.”

How MUCH passes between us without any words!   How many of our thoughts.  How many of our feelings.  Possibly all?   Sending and receiving.    Understanding without words, understanding beyond words.  It’s magical.  It’s beautiful.  It’s a whole world of wordless communication.  It profoundly moves me.

As much as I love words, and I do love them with passion great, all this that happens without words to me seems way more important, more real, more true than the communication we exchange with words.

Love,

Ingrid

 

 

 

 

 

“The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: A human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive. To him… a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create — so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, his very breath is cut off from him. He must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency he is not really alive unless he is creating.”  –  Pearl S. Buck

This not only rings deeply true to me, it describes me.  I think you have to be this, to understand it.

I thank Pearl Buck for not only being it, but for expressing it.  I thank her for my great relief, knowing that although she never met me, she fully understood me.

I thank too all the other truly creative minds this describes.  You breathe life into this world.   I am grateful you exist and you create.

Love,

Ingrid

Ineffable is one of my absolute favorite words.  Ineffable means:

1. Too overwhelming or great to be expressed or described in words, inexpressible
2. Too awesome or sacred to be spoken

It came from the Latin ineffabilis which meant, “too great for words”.

Ineffable is that moment when you experience something that profoundly touches you and takes you somewhere beyond words, a space vocabulary has never entered.

No combination, even of all the words that exist in the entire universe, can capture or contain something that is ineffable.

Like when you fall in love and suddenly the word love seems completely small and inadequate to contain what you’re feeling.  You can see ineffable in the eyes of a mother when she and her child gaze at each other, both experiencing something way beyond words.

It could be what music does to you, that when you try to explain it to someone you can see your words are failing you.  It could be how you feel about someone and you know you could never put it into words.  It could be seeing the birth of your child or feeling someone’s arm around you.  It could be the victory of facing fear down and doing the impossible.  It could be a longing for something you don’t know what.  It could be a moment where you suddenly plunge into a deep human connection with someone.  Or you suddenly discover who you really are.

I felt it the first time I walked into a grove of redwoods, especially when I slept there that night, far from any civilization.  It was the first time I experienced trees as sacred, as a cathedral.  The indescribable sent of the redwoods, the amazing stars above.   And seeing the Grand Canyon for the first time, amidst a glorious red and purple sunset in Arizona.  A close friend of mine is an artist and I get this feeling every time I see one of her paintings.  I’m transported to an ineffable joy.

People do it to me a lot.  I’ll be coaching someone and see a ‘greatness of being’ emerge and I’m struck by overwhelming wonder at how magnificent they are.  They’re radiant with something tremendously unique, something so themselves, something you could never find anywhere else but coming from them.  Their glory.  Looking at them I’m seeing something I could never put into words.

I know it’s not just me.  If I’m delivering a group workshop, there comes a point when everyone sees it in everyone else and no one can put it into words.  Except to say, “Wow.”  It’s just not sayable.

Whenever I see this ineffable quality in another person, I immediately tumble head over heels in love.   But again, it’s not just me.  So does the rest of the world become captivated.  This is truly what we respond to in each other.

I believe everyone has this ineffable quality.  I believe when a person is truly being themselves it emerges in all its captivating wonder and glory.

Someone asked me yesterday what inspired me to get into the work I do.  I tried to explain to him that it’s to bring out the ineffable in others.  Somehow I think he got it. Somehow I think he is someone who reaches for the ineffable too.  It was a very satisfying conversation.

I measure the quality of my life by the number of ineffable moments I have, the number of ineffable people I know.  I’m not happy if my life isn’t bursting with the ineffable.

I love words.  I love putting my thoughts into words, but I especially love those moments and those people who are impossible to put into words.

I love what Douglas Adams, a writer I really like (Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy), said:  Let us think the unthinkable, let us do the undoable, let us prepare to grapple with the ineffable itself, and see if we may not eff it after all.

I love that he knew the word ineffable.  That he, like me, reached for it.

I would love to hear your thoughts about this.  Ineffable moments you’ve had, ineffable people you’ve met, your ineffable dreams and longings.  Please feel free to write me, I am very interested in your experiences and thoughts on this.

 

I’m writing about today, but it doesn’t matter what day of the week it is, I wake up in the morning and, once I clear the cobwebs from my head and figure out where I am, I experience pure joy.  I don’t know what it is about morning that makes me so happy.

Waking up makes me feel 10-years-old, I’m feeling like I have an infinity of day ahead.

It helps that I have three cats on the bed who start purring the moment they sense I’m awake.  They’re  so in tune, they know I’m awake before I even move or open my eyes. In the dark 3 different purrs rumbling help me remember where I am.

They all get breakfast, I do 100 stomach crunches and some other stretching exercises, then out into pre-sunrise dark for my morning run.  Total exhilaration.   The road is winding and hilly.  The emerging golden sun rising over San Francisco Bay greets me many times as I round the curves for new views.

I meet the usual dogs and neighbors. The dogs are ridiculously, exuberantly delighted to see me.  Man, wouldn’t it be fabulous if people greeted each other this way?  Jumping out of our skin overjoyed to see each other, even if we just saw each other yesterday?

Then home for a fabulous green smoothie and getting ready for work, including a quick email check to see what came in from overseas.  Always so happy to see something from London, Ireland, Lithuania, Switzerland, Australia or India in my inbox.

Life is so grand.  Each and every day is a miracle to me.  Each person that comes into my life brings something unexpected and unbelievably unique. I naturally attract people who are super intelligent, smart, positive, striving, creative, care about people.  They each have something no one else has, something extraordinary I will never, ever experience except talking to them.  My day is full of people like that.

I get in my car to drive down the hill to the office, a day full of promise, a feeling I can’t wait to see the people I work with, to create an amazing day.

Wishing you a fabulous Monday too, one that gives you as much joy as Saturdays do.

Love,

Ingrid

 

I have extreme respect for other human beings.

I believe their decisions regarding what they do, what they believe, their future, their goals, I believe their right to select these is sacred.  I believe everyone has their own path, that discovery of this path creates limitless joy and blesses the world with their creativity.

I find many people have gotten beaten down and do not have the ability to get what they want that they had when they were 2 years old.  That’s one reason why their 2-year-old runs circles around them.  Not to mention a whole lot of other people in their lives who limit their choices.

I love nothing more than helping a person regain this ability and be able to causatively determine every aspect of their life so life turns out the way they want.

The reason I focus on communication is because it’s the most powerful activity we engage in. Communication is how we make anything happen when it comes to other people.

Most people have absolutely no idea how good they can really get at communication, so they settle for a very low level of it, which gives them lives that are ordinary.

I know with outstanding communication you can have a life of ecstasy, exhilaration, joy, a life that is thrilling.   Most people would not call their day-to-day life thrilling.  But it can be.   If they have the right communication skills.

I am dedicated to empowering others.

Love,

Ingrid

I am so thrilled because my favorite poet ever, Louis Alan Swartz, is still alive and publishing new works.  He recently published his 2nd book of beautiful poetry and is already at work on the 3rd.

Louis recently did an author interview. I was so moved reading the interview, I decided to republish it in my own blog.

I believe so strongly in everything Louis says in this interview.  I can’t believe there’s someone who is able to express what is deep in my heart without even knowing me.  It gives me hope that possibly what is deep in my heart, is also deep in everyone’ else’s.

Here is his interview.

What message would you like readers to take away from this book?

My overall intention in writing is to draw out the magnificence in individuals. It is my firm certainty that each person is an immortal spiritual being. I also believe that each human is possessed of abilities much greater than they have been permitted to believe. Their ability to perceive, understand, create, love, help, know and do good is for each one beyond our current earth imaginations. There is a Hindu myth about the god, Shiva and the goddess, Maya. In short, they had a loving relationship for 9000 years and then they ran into some trouble and things got a bit rocky. First of all, I believe that story is true and second of all, I believe that a “regular human being” here on this earth is capable of a love of that duration and magnitude. I won’t go into all the other legends and myths. Suffice it to say, it is very real to me that these things really did happen and that we can return to that level of intensity of life.

What I want the reader to take away from this book is that he is wiser, kinder, more loving, more creative, more useful and more beautiful than he ever imagined. I want to help him regain his capacity for amazement, astonishment and awe. My purpose in writing this book was to speak to the miracle each person reading it is.

Is your poetry based on your own life experiences?

Definitely. I have travelled widely to South America, Europe, The Middle East, Africa, India and back and forth across the U.S. countless times. I saw many things. I learned many things. I know that each individual, living being has great value because I observed them at their work and lives. I listened to them. I eagerly heard their stories. I witnessed their suffering and their elation. I tried to save a young boy from dying for no reason along the Nile in South Sudan. I saw a food riot in India. I ate with the farmers in Madhya Pradesh in India. I told them about the miracles of America. They brought a child to me and asked me to cure her of polio. I could not.

I have been married for 30 years. I have a joyous marriage. My children are walking miracles. It is all there in the writing.

Why did you select the title – Magic Realized?

It is my belief that there is vast magic in each individual. By magic I mean able to create things not explained by nature, even able to create miracles. I am talking about the outrageous expression of genius. I do not believe this is limited to a gifted few but that each person walking this earth has these abilities inherently. I use both definitions of realized in the title. The first one is to become aware of. I want them to become aware of their own personal magic, such as He realized he could sing. The second meaning is to accomplish or achieve as in He realized his goal to be a concert

pianist. I am looking to accomplish both meanings in the reader. I want him to become aware of his personal magic. Then I want him to accomplish magical things in his life. Thus – Magic Realized.

Why do you think people these days need to hear that “You matter.”?

I think that in the main people have lost belief in themselves. I found this by listening to people. I have been told too many times to count things like “I used to have a dream but I lost it and it’s too late now.” That is plain not true! And it pisses me off. They might as well tell me that they are dead and would I please close the coffin. Each individual on this earth does matter! You cannot tell them that too much. My tenth grade English teacher, Miss Helen Hilliard, got up in front of the class with a paper I had written and said, “This kid can write.” That changed my life forever.

Why did you select poetry as your means of expression?

I believe poetry is a concentrated, fine language with which, if you make yourself very understandable, you can communicate directly to the spiritual being.

Where do you get your inspiration?

I get it by looking and listening. I look at wild flowers like the bright yellow California Poppy or the blue Mountain Lilac. I look at the Maple trees and Birch trees in the New England Fall. I listen to the old man from Italy in the restaurant telling me about the Second World War as if was yesterday. I devour what has been said and written whether it’s good or bad. I do not wait for inspiration. I go find it and eat it up.

How would you recommend someone read your poetry?

It doesn’t matter to me in which sequence they read my books. Sometimes they may have need of a poem about love or loss or death or immortality. I am thrilled if they find the one that helps them. It is important to me that they understand the words in the poems. I recommend having a dictionary at your side and using it.

Can we expect a Volume 3 of your Magic poetry?

Yes, there is a Volume III in the works. I am well into it and very excited about it. It goes deeper down into the themes of the first 2 volumes.

Do you have a favorite writer or poet who has influenced you?

The poet I most admire is Rainer Maria Rilke, a German poet who lived at the end of the 19^th Century, beginning of the 20^th Century. My favorite work by him is The Duino Elegies. It was from this book that I got my first inkling that a spiritual world existed. By the way, the best translation I have read is by Stephen Spender and J. B. Leishman.

What advice do you offer to aspiring poets?

Write! Write a hell of a lot! Don’t worry if it’s good or bad to begin with. Just write, write tens of thousands of words, even 100,000 and more. Read, live, see, hear. If you’re going to be a poet read all kinds of poetry. See what you like, what you understand and most importantly what moves you. Listen to the people, children, old people, people of all ages.

What I feel is most important is to make your poetry very understandable. It is my personal viewpoint that cryptic, obscure, vague and esoteric poetry is garbage and has given poetry a bad name and turned people off to it. MAKE YOURSELF UNDERSTOOD!

And here is the link to Louis’ first book.  He writes about life, love and death in a way that stirs my soul and makes my heart sing.

 

May your heart find all the songs it was meant to sing.

Love,

Ingrid

1

I adore Oakland.  I’ve lived here for almost 30 years and I could make this entire blog a love song.

I probably shouldn’t say this, but I actually enjoyed when Oakland had a “bad” reputation, a reputation it never deserved.  I loved that it was an undiscovered, unspoiled, a fabulously itself city with absolutely no pretensions – one of the best kept secrets in California.

One thing you should know about me is I’ve never worried about what people think.  If I like something, I like it.

So, for all the years I heard, “What’s a nice girl like you doing living in Oakland?” I just grinned and thought, “Don’t believe everything you read.  You have no idea how amazing and wonderful this little village city is.”

Well, the cat’s out of the bag now.  Oakland’s been “discovered”.  The number of articles written about Oakland of late is too numerous to list, including Huffington Post naming Oakland “Most Exciting City in the Country” and New York Times ranking Oakland #5 in “52 Places to Go” (can you believe gorgeous San Francisco didn’t even make this list?!).  When Oakland got discovered, I mean it really got discovered!

We’re now teeming with fresh new faces spilling over from the high tech industry boom in San Francisco.  The number of successful start-ups here is startling.  Uptown Oakland has a new “take the top of your head off it’s so good” restaurant opening every week.  And just to give you an idea of the cultural scene, we have 55 art galleries in downtown Oakland.

Even with all my world travels, this is the only city I’ve been in where an extraordinarily high percent of residents wear their passion – the number of “I Love Oakland” T-shirts you’ll see walking down the street make an impression.  The love and pride the people who live here have for Oakland is fierce and palpable.

What I love most, however, is that even with the enormous influx of new residents, Oakland retains its Oakland’ness, its personality.  It doesn’t have that homogenized “I’ve been shopping” look that takes over a population when new wealth moves in.

Oakland has been named “The Most Diverse City in America” and it shows.  Stand in line in a supermarket and you’ll share company with an artist in dreadlocks, a corporate type, a Lyft driver, a new mother, a Chinese shopkeeper, an aging hippy, a chic Millennial, the CEO of Pandora and someone who looks like they’re in a street gang.  It’s a super friendly place and you might find yourself talking to all of them.

There’s a certain kind of person attracted to Oakland.  A very “think for yourself” sort.  A creative type.

One thing I noticed early on in my travels is, quite in additional to their defining architecture and physical features, cities have definite personalities.

Oakland is like that kid in high school who always did his own thing, was friendly but didn’t worry about being “popular”, didn’t follow the crowd the way they looked, dressed, or thought, an independent thinker marching to the beat of a different drum, really into something, but the world around him not understanding what or why, super-intelligent about things outside the mainstream, a little geeky, the kid who turns into a gazillionnaire because it turns out what he was working on was super creative, innovative and very cool.  This is the kind of kid who, when overnight success hits, it doesn’t go to his head.

This is a very fun kid to hang out with.  Even before the world finally catches up to him and vindicates his unique perspective on life.  This is a kid who belongs in Oakland.

Love,

Ingrid

There was a long period in my life that I was often told I am too something.  And I can assure you of this fact – when they use the word too in any feedback they give you, it’s never good.  They never say you’re too beautiful, too amazing, too wonderful, too enthralling, too captivating.

They may say those things, but they never put the word too in front of them.  Nope. When they use the word too, I can tell you from personal experience it’s never good.

I have been told I am too direct, too enthusiastic, too friendly, too optimistic, too exuberant, too intense, too much of a rebel, too nonconforming, too unrealistic (I really love that one), that my affinity for other people is too high and I work too hard.

It makes me laugh because these are exactly the things that have made me successful in life. You have to be something in order to succeed, or you turn into a corporate sheep. You have to believe in something, you have to stand for something, you have to act.

I’ve learned that the people who think I am too anything are not the right friends or clients for me. There are plenty of other people in the world for them …  people who aren’t too anything.

Not surprisingly perhaps, many of my clients have suffered the same fate.  They come to me saying, “I’ve been told I’m too _____”  (fill in the blank).

They come to me thinking I’m going to teach them how to be “Less ____” whatever it is.

Why would I ever do that?  Teach them to be less direct?  Less exuberant?   Less nice?  More realistic (which is the same as teaching them to accept defeat)?  That would be criminal!

Instead, I teach them the OTHER skills they need to have to be able to get away with it, to succeed because of it.  Otherwise, they let what others say to them turn them into corporate sheep and the world has too many of these already.

But in honor of all the people in my life who ever said I was, “Too _____ (anything)”, I was thinking about putting on my tombstone “Too Dead” because at that point, I would agree with them.

Love,

Ingrid

 

I celebrate New Year 5 times every year.     I believe you can’t have too many New Years. It’s like having too many people to love in your life. There’s no such thing as too many.

I love all 5, I love the feeling of ALL fresh new starts, whether it’s a new day or year.

The first New Years I celebrate is January 1.  It’s probably obvious to you why I celebrate this one, but I think the others might not be.

I started celebrating Chinese New Year, which comes around later in January and often in February, when I went to Singapore and discovered how splendidly colorful and exuberant this celebration is.  I’m lucky too because San Francisco has the largest Chinese population outside China and the celebration here is extraordinary.

I’m in awe of Spring.  Spring always makes me feel like I’m beginning a new life.  Seeing all the new green growth on trees and ivy, seeing buds on naked trees and then canopies of leaves, seeing glorious flowers burst forth in my and all my neighbors’ yards and rose gardens.  It’s just a miracle.  How does this magic ever happen?

I always get the feeling of a great burden lifting I didn’t even know was there, like a part of me had died and I didn’t realize it until I saw the world around me coming to life and something came back to life in me too.  I experience inexpressible joy.

I started celebrating July 4^th as a new year over 20 years ago when I left Philadelphia.  I was starting a new life.  I stored all my stuff (not much) at my parents, bought a blue MGB convertible sports car, put the top down and spent 3 months driving around the country looking for where I wanted to live.  It was thrilling to drive away into a big adventure with fireworks in the sky.

For some reason I’ve made other major life changes on July 4^th.   I made so many of these changes on the 4^th, that I started to think of it as my own personal new year.

Which brings me to today.  I have another personal new year in the Fall.

From the time I was little I’ve experienced a PROFOUND feeling of a brand new start at the beginning of each new school year.

New sharpened pencils, new outfits, new notebooks, new teachers, new classes, new subjects.  Sometimes even new schools and new friends.

With Fall I always have this feeling of anticipation, something exciting and new about to start, anticipation of new opportunity, full of hope, promise, possible achievement.

Does Fall ever make you feel that way?

I start to get this excited Fall New Year feeling the first day it SMELLS like Fall.  (I do get excited about little things.)  Have you ever noticed how every season has its own smells?

Every season has its own light too.  There are certain colors and a certain slant of light that tells me a new season is starting.  The photo above is one of my favorite running trails.  The light you see only happens in the Fall.

And today, as I run and breath in cool fresh air, it smells like Fall.  Exhilarating.

Wishing you a happy Fall New Year! May yours be full of new beginnings and promise!

Love,

Ingrid