The Unsolicited Advice that Turned Heart Worry into Helpful Awareness

Personal crises don’t care about big plans.

And when a crisis occurs, we are often faced with choices:

Pause 

Postpone

Go forward as planned 

In a decision process too complex for words, I chose Option 3: Go forward as planned. 

On a hot, July morning, just mere weeks ago, I sat on a taxiing plane, wondering if I’d done the right thing.

Undetectable to the human eye, I ached from the internal wounds of the Summer of Devastation, which hit rock bottom two days before I was due to deliver the biggest creative endeavor of my life.

Just as the plane was about to go airborne, a text message came through. 

“My heart hurts with you and with your child,” my friend wrote.

And then she said this… 

“We know I’m a Fixer, and I can’t fix this, so I tried hard to write only the above sentence and put my phone down. But as I prayed and thought on all of this, I felt the following might help you get through the task ahead of you:

Rachel, I think of you as a Noticer, too, though I know it’s what you consider Avery. Rather than worry about her while you’re apart, honor her by noticing all the things she might notice. I get that you won’t be able to turn it off completely – she’s your daughter after all – but when the worry creeps in, maybe you can reframe it. Use that pause to say, ‘What would Avery be zeroing in on right now?’ This can help you throw the right kind of energy at that pain and regain your focus.”

Honor her by noticing 

I don’t know what it was about that directive that resonated so deeply…the personalness? the doableness? the familiarness?

I don’t know… but for the first time in six devastating weeks, I believed This Is Not a Hopeless Situation.

Honor her by noticing

THAT was something I could do. 

And I did. 

On my very first day in a picturesque Colorado town, I went from: 

‘I will do nothing except work’ to ‘maybe I should just check out this beautiful town square.’

‘I will talk to no one all week’ to ‘I’ll just chat a moment with this kind server.’

‘What have I done?’ to ‘What can I do right here, right now?’

Honor her by noticing

That was the answer, again and again and again.

Through Avery’s eyes, I saw a candle had been lit for me in the recording studio. I noticed chair pillows positioned, water poured, temperature adjusted, in expectation of my arrival.

Through Avery’s eyes, I saw a lovingly worn stuffed animal on the sidewalk. I placed it where it could be more easily found.

Through Avery’s eyes, I saw a lonely driver who shared the pain of not knowing his neighbors the way he did in India. ‘No one talks to each other here. I don’t even know my landlord, he said. ‘I am so happy you are here doing work that will connect people.’

Through Avery’s eyes, I saw a former shelter dog who’d been adopted during the pandemic lockdown and was now treated like royalty because of the emotional support she’d given her family.

Through Avery’s eyes, I saw the frustration of a human being who was tired of the performative actions of his city that had no real concern for his family’s safety and wellbeing.

Through Avery’s eyes, I saw the deep, authentic hues of my best friend from childhood. 

My friend and I had just shared a meal and were sitting in the lively downtown area, having a heart to heart. The world had fallen away, and it was just us, our messiest truths, and our deepest hopes.

“Excuse me?” said a random stranger. “Can I take a photo? I feel compelled to capture this for you.”

Unsure of what the person meant by ‘this,’ my friend and I began to pose.

“No, please go back to what you were doing… it was beautiful,” the individual said.

Afterwards, I studied the candid photo.

Through my daughter’s eyes, I saw my six-year-old self – the one who climbed tall trees, greeted stray cats, and believed kindness and love could move mountains.

Honor her by noticing 

By using the directive to shift worry to awareness, I’d reconnected to a hope-filled part of me, and she’s been by my side ever since.

Honor her by noticing

One month ago, those four words sustained me as my world crumbled. Perhaps they could be used right now as the entire world is collapsing before our very eyes.

I think we can all agree that the level of devastation, pain, and struggle of humanity right now is overwhelming… paralyzing… devastating. 

But what might happen if — in our own personal way — we honor her? 

the refugee 
the earthquake survivor 
the translator 
the activist 
the rescuer 
the health care worker
the teacher
the counselor
the weary
the oppressed
the traumatized
the lonely
the lost
the person with invisible wounds to the heart

Maybe you know them by name.

Perhaps you don’t, but you worry for them all the same.

Honor them today by showing up fully in one interaction, one gesture of support, one donation, one risk, one call, one warm blanket, one extended hand.

Honor them by not shutting down – not turning away – not giving up on what seems like a hopeless situation. 

I can’t help but think about Avery’s tendency to stop and investigate everything when she was little. Every bug. Every tree. Every rock. Every sad person. Every cloud. 

When Avery got to grade school, her tendency to notice All.The.Things often got her in trouble.

“Your coach said you tend to lag behind on the outdoor runs, and they almost lose you,” I said as I drove Avery home from practice.

“That’s because I’m looking at the cracks in the sidewalk,” eight-year-old Avery remarked unapologetically. “If you look real close, sometimes you can see a flower growing there. Can you believe that, Mama? A plant growing out of cement!”

Dear Avery, I’m so sorry it took me so long to see it.

But I see that brave flower now; I see it growing from the hardest, cruelest, most desolate places known to humankind.

And I also see that I can be a part of nurturing the flower’s growth.

There is still Hope.

And I will honor Her by noticing.

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My friends, I want you to know that this trip allowed me to produce an intimate and supportive audio journey under the direction of Sounds True, a renowned multimedia publishing company that showcases the work of thought leaders from around the globe. This heart-led project was inspired by SOUL SHIFT, the online journey I have been leading since 2018. This unique audio program releases to the world in Spring of 2022 – but if you’d like to experience the hope, connection, and support of the Soul Shift process and its loving community, please join me for the upcoming session. Registration opens this Sunday, August 22, at a discounted rate for those who request to be notified. Click here to be notified. 

You can also experience Soul Shift through my small, in-person restorative weekend retreat happening at the Art of Living Retreat Center in North Carolina on Nov 5-7. Click here for all the details.

In case you missed it on Facebook or Instagram, I was recently a guest on the Art of Living’s Wisdom Holders Series. I offered 3 Ways to Move from Surviving to Thriving. This soothing conversation has quickly become one of the most viewed teaching in the series. If you only have 2 minutes, please watch the last two minutes. Many people have let me know that those are the words they need right now.

Please don't forget to grab my new eBook, STARTING POINT, while it is available at no charge. I am so grateful to hear from readers that this little guide feels like real encouragement and support in this uncertain time. 

I am so grateful for your hand in mine.