I was recently invited to sit down and share about a bowl that I found and the significance it has had in my life. I spoke with Martie McNabb on her podcast, Show & Tale.

My husband and I built a house next door to our daughter and her family two years ago. I was so worried about imposing on her that we located our house so that their barn and our garage blocked our views of each other’s yards. These seemed like good boundaries. They protected everyone’s privacy but didn’t impinge on our love and support for one another.

My daughter is good at asking for help and also being clear when she doesn’t need it. With a gentle “no, thank you” she’s makes clear my advice or opinion is not needed. I admit she’s better at setting boundaries than I am. With my mother, I never had the nerve to use them. And with people I didn’t trust or those who hurt me, I built walls that were indestructible. There was no way in or out. These were not boundaries. They were defenses that locked my anger and fear in place. I’m ready to tear down these formidable barriers that separate me and diminish the quality of my relationships. But I know, too, that I need boundaries that will protect my well-being. So what do I do?

I could replace the wall with a fence. I could meet you there with the fence safely between us. One day we may sit on it together. And all in good time, I might build a gate that we are both free to pass through.

Everyday I have the power to choose who I’ll be. When I wrote my book, After Rain, I chose to balance this serious effort with playfulness and ease. I knew these intentions were essential to creating the magic became After Rain.

Is it possible to make today the best day of my life? Actually I’m the only one who can! My fate is not determine by the events of the day but by my perceptions of them. It’s true – I have the power to create my day.

Gratitude is the song I want to sing all day long. When I open my heart wide to the present moment I hear the song and join in. I send it right back out, singing to you in a spirit of generosity.

It was two years ago this month that I started in earnest to write my first book, After Rain. It’s funny that I referred to it as “my first book” because I have no plans for a second. But then I didn’t see the first one coming, nor did I know I would feel, even today, awed by the wisdom it holds. So, who knows? Maybe there is another book waiting in the wings. Life is certainly full of surprises. And anything is possible!

Possibilities are the stuff the universe is made of. And they hum out there in the ethers waiting for us to grab on and create what it is we so often “didn’t see coming.” We can miss our chance because we’ve already settled on what we think, or what we expect, or believe to be true, or not true, about ourselves and our lives. I had to let go of my belief that other people write books, not me. I didn’t think I was good with words. It took courage and lots of self-compassion for me to let go of that hard-held belief that writing was not “my thing.” And I did let go because I was curious about me and change and choice. I always am. And I’m optimistic too, because, deep down, I trust myself and know I’m on an incredible journey to live upward.

Writing this book required me to commit to that journey every single day. It was fun and hard and heart-opening. And along the way I discovered joy, gratitude, exhaustion and a deep sense of responsibility for how I participate in this one big, beautiful life I share with all of you.

As a photographer living in Santa Fe, I was intrigued by the cowboy persona. I would wrangle my way behind the scenes at the annual rodeo to capture their energy and swagger. Overtime I discovered so much more.

I was in the pen, next to this rider when he mounted the bull, carefully settling on his back, feeling the tension and mood of the animal. The cowboy was fully present with sharp senses and honed awareness. His body was alert and yet quiet, ready with an ease that would need to match the effort of the challenge.

The chute opened and out they came.  After so many years of mental and physical preparation, the cowboy had nothing left to plan or predict. This moment of intense fear now required only his calm and steady presence. In a spirit of complete acceptance, he simply moved with the bull. He did not panic, nor did he resist.  Clearly it took courage to ride this beast but also to surrender to his unpredictable journey and its outcome.

In watching their dangerous dance, I realized that neither the rider nor the bull was in charge. They had to work the challenges out together as partners in this wild and exhilarating adventure.

So if we want to live upward today and every day, this cowboy would tell us to follow his lead;  think less, live in the moment, accept it as it comes, don’t resist and do your best. Have the courage to surrender to what you can’t control and remember you and the bull are in this together.

And when it’s over, stand up, dust yourself off and shout out with joy!