Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Sow Love, Reap Compassion in the Ground of Being


The ground of our being is love. Thomas Merton has written about this time and time again. In moments of reflection, I wonder what I would find on an expedition into the ground of my being. Would I find love? Or, would I find something else?

Let’s take an adventure together. Me to the ground of my being and your to yours as we see, feel, hear — really experience — what we seeds we plant and what we harvest in the ground of our being. Each inhalation forges a path to the cores of our being. Exhaling we release the blocks, the barriers, whatever prevents us for from being the person we truly are.

Continue to breath as you get closer and closer to your ground. Notice how the landscape changes as you near your core. Perhaps you are deep in a seemingly impenetrable jungle, maybe an arid desert, or perhaps you find yourself in your backyard. Wherever you find yourself is the place between the illusion your present and your authentic self. Once you step into the ground of your being, just notice.

What did I discover? For a while I seemed to be struggling to make any headway through a dense forest. The underbrush scratched my legs. The gnats buzzed around my head. I found myself frustrated until a voice within reminded me, “these are your challenges.” And, I realized I needed to let go of my need to get where I was going. I needed to give up control. What I needed was to be in the moment and experience the journey. 

The brush didn’t immediately thin out nor did the gnats miraculously disappear. As I let go of control, my perception shifted. Peering into the underbrush, I saw berries clinging to spindly branches. Flowers unfurled. Instead of the annoying buzz of gnats, I heard a song urging me on through the challenges as I edged nearer to the ground of my being. With each breath I relaxed. I became more and more curious about what I was finding in the moment on my trek to the ground of my being.

Then I arrived. Stepping into the soil, I noticed that the ground was fertile in some places and barren in others. Fecund where I was in harmony with myself. Barren when I struggle to find my authentic self. And, I discovered piles and piles of compost created from challenges successfully met and life lessons learned.

After seeing and smelling that compost, I realized that I was not just a tourist in the ground of my being. I was the master gardener. So, I took another breath and looked at the beauty surrounding me. The vibrancy of colors, the sun of my spirit warming, nurturing, bringing me to life, the crystal clear water of my lake-soul invited me to step deeper into my authentic self. I surveyed the beauty that was truly me. Within the beauty, I discovered little illusions. I carefully removed any deadheads and weeds. 

With another breath, I gathered my tools of courage, and with curious daring ventured to a barren spot. Getting down on my knees, I plucked a plant or two that did not authentically represent me. I dug into the ground and worked in a bit of compost — new life into the tired, the depleted landscape. 

On my next breath came a bag of  seeds that I carefully dusted into the renewed soil. I intentionally covered them. I sprinkled water from the lake of my soul onto the seeds. Letting go of the illusion that I was a tourist who views the beauty in the garden, I became the master gardener who gives life to the ground of my being.  

Within this ground I found unconditional love — love of who I am authentically and love for the illusions that give me room to learn and grow. This is my ground. Mind. And, only I can cultivate it in the ways that grow love. In nurturing this love, I reaps the seeds of compassion that I can give to other master gardeners. Together we create a community garden of sown with love and giving us a harvest of compassion.


What does the ground of your being look like?  

Vanessa F. Hurst, ms, is a Mindful Coach, Compassion Consultant, Professional Speaker, and Author who weaves her inner wisdom into all she touches. Contact Vanessa @ hurst.vanessa@gmail.com .

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Bridging Intent & Action


Lately when I hear the word compassion, I wonder how some described actions correlate with ability to alleviate suffering. These actions seem to go beyond the practice of the compassion of “I love you enough” or not enabling a person but instead supporting them as they move through their suffering in order to meet a challenge. While I understand and have practiced the philosophy of “I love you enough” compassion, I do not see how something that has the potential to cause hurt, harm, and additional suffering can be considered compassionate. 

I wonder what the intent behind the action is. I wonder if the person who is being self-proclaimed “compassionate” understands what is at the roots of their intent. Knowing and being honest about your intent comes in really handy when sharing compassion in difficult situations. Identifying your intent requires more than just a superficial statement of the motives behind your actions. It requires looking honestly into the ground of your being while recognizing that the verbalized intent may not be the true intent. 

What we believe is intent, at times, is a manifestation of our fears. Digging into the ground of our being, we uncover the roots of our intent. Through these roots, we identify the truth of our intent. We might see that the bridge that connects our so called intent to our actions is an illusion. That our intent may not be compassion but survival of some illusionary aspect of our self at the expense of others. Once intent is identified, the next step is to see how well it correlates with actions. 

What is intent? How does it correlate authentically with action? Let’s start with definitions. 

Intent is a state of mind that creates the foundation of purpose. We might have a specific intent such as completing an assigned task. We also have a macro intent. This overarching state of being is our life purpose or how we live from a set of core values. My overarching intent is to be compassionate. 

Our action is reflected in all our thoughts, words, and deeds. With every breath and in every moment, we act. Unless we are mindful, our intent may not inform our actions. Overwhelmed by the busyness of the day, our intent is often lost amid our reactionary behavior. We may question how we got to this place of reaction that does not accurately reflect our intent.

Bridging our intent and action begins with a simple questions. 

  • “What is my intent?” Discovering the answer may be anything but simple. But, until we acknowledge lies at the foundation of each action, we find our bridge from intent to action unnavigable. 
  • After naming this intent, we ask, “What are the core values that guide our intent?” Understanding the connection between our value system and our intent, gives us the power of choice. 
This is a choice of response or reaction. Do we choose to get swept away from the moment and away from the opportunity of response? When we are not present our triggers propel us into reactionary behavior. Instead of looking at what is the root of the anger, angst, or frustration, we hurt our self and others through our actions. Our bridge of intent and actions becomes rickety.

When mindful, our core values root us deeply in a place where we can connect our intent and action. Anchored into the moment we stop potential reactions and form responses. In our mindfulness, we notice triggers. We reflect upon what was behind our initial desire to react. Often these roots are fears — of being wrong, of not being lovable, of not fitting in — the list is endless. 

Once the roots are identified, we can use tools like the 90-second pause* to lessen our high emotions thus moving from reaction to response. Our response is the true mirror of our intent. Each response creates patterns of mindful interaction. Our response flexibility strengthens. 

Although bridging our intent and action is a means of living from our core values, is has a variety of benefits. Each time we connect our intent and action, we increase our brain plasticity. We strengthen neural pathways of response and synaptically prune pathways of reactions. Through this connection we become better at identifying our triggers and mitigating their negatives effects. 

When we bridge our intent and action, our life is a reflection of our core values — we show the world the person we are deep inside our self. The end result is increased connectivity to our self and the world around us. Our response flexibility is enhanced and we are more resilient.

* The 90-second pause is a way of stopping and paying attention to how the triggers of the world are pulling you from the moment. Set a timer for 90 seconds. Breathe and notice how you are impacted in your body, mind, spirit, and emotions to an event. Don’t hold on to what is happening, be an objective observer. It you do not allow the distraction to catch you, it will be easier to stay in the moment. 

Vanessa F. Hurst, ms, is a Mindful Coach, Compassion Consultant, Professional Speaker, and Author who weaves her inner wisdom into all she touches. Contact Vanessa @ vanessa@intentandaction.com


Website / LinkedIn Profile / Facebook / Twitter: @fyrserpent / ©2017

Tuesday, July 4, 2017

Free to Be: You & Me




“I want to be like you,” she said.

“I want to be like me, too…the me who dances to the rhythm of my truth…who sings compassion’s lullaby…who lives with curious daring.” said I. “And, I want you to be like you.”

This world is a narrow avenue lined high with tottering boxes of expectations and fears. Who we are might not fit neatly into those boxes. In those moments of authenticity those boxes threaten to cascade upon our heads. Illusion or authenticity? It seems either choice comes with pitfalls of suffering. 

Our community, culture, even workplaces can have expectations of us that are difficult if not impossible to meet. Maybe we can breathe through the fear of not meeting those expectations only to discover that we are living in relationship with family, a partner, or a friend who has subtle expectations we have been valiantly trying to live up to. We might not even be aware that our life was fashioned in another’s image. In an effort to be those expectations, we lose our self.

For a while we may delude our self into being okay with the illusion we have cast. We may convince our self that this is a new, better version of our authentic presence. We might even believe that we are the person others expect us to be. Our outward appearance may reflect the illusions: high heels and short skirts, toning down a hairstyle, removing piercing, covering up tattoos. We may change our spirituality and attend a church that is outside our belief system. We may stifle our political views.

And, we kept telling our self consciously and unconsciously that we have to be open minded. Maybe the other person or society knows us better than we know our self. Maybe the experience based upon another’s expectations is an important part of our journey to authenticity. Maybe, just maybe, that box is an okay home. We say to our self, “Even if I believe that being wild and free is better than being domesticated, I am probably wrong.” 

No matter how much we talk our self into the new, improved illusion, the tremors at the core of our being are felt. The more we refuse to identify that this new way is an illusion not a reflection of who we are, the stronger the quakes. We look for the causes of those quakes never quite realizing that they are the voice of our authenticity screaming to be heard.

These quakes shake loose our confidence. We may be filled with fear and feelings that we are not quite enough. The more we deny or ignore these internal rumblings, the greater the chaos. The tectonic plates shift with increasing violence. In the resulting explosion, anger spews from deep inside. We may react violently to others or the anger may spiral the illusion of who we are not deeper into our being. Despair fills us.

This anger brings with it the message of freedom. No matter how much we attempt to dampen it, this anger will not be denied. Unless we make changes shifting the reaction to a response, it continues to punch through our barriers and explode outward. Others are caught in the shrapnel of anger. Of course, they have no clue that this anger is your reaction to the illusions that trap you. Your anger ignored had no other option but to punch a hole from which the illusion could seep. Your anger was the voice that says, “I want to be free to be me.” 

Free to Be Me. The illusion of who we are not need not end in an anger-generated explosion. We can choose to love our self, be self-compassionate, and be courageously authentic. These will be the acid that eats through the illusion before it takes root. This trifecta shines the light on our truth. And, with our truth exposed and accepted, we can forgive our self for falling into the illusion cast by expectations of others.

Our authentic self beats a rhythm of compassion, courage, and curious daring. Joy is the melody that awakens the possibility of who we are. We fly on the wings of courage and curious daring as we share our self with the world. We soar into freedom. Free to be me. Free to be you.

“I want to be like me,” she said.

“I want to be like me, too,” I said. 

Together we are free.



Vanessa F. Hurst, ms, is a Mindful Coach, Compassion Consultant, Professional Speaker, and Author who weaves her inner wisdom into all she touches. Contact Vanessa @ hurst.vanessa@gmail.com.



Website / LinkedIn Profile / Facebook / Twitter: @fyrserpent / ©2017

Tuesday, June 27, 2017

Compassion & The Blame Game

I blame you. You blame me. Within the cycle of pointing fingers, we get stuck in a quagmire of anger and mistrust and impotency. Maybe, if we are feeling particularly stuck, we retaliate. The blame game escalates. Together, we get to the top of the escalator. Instead of recognizing the final outburst as a culmination of the steps that led to it, we hold the person or people who initiated the final action 100% responsible for the issue. We really have someone we can blame now. Yet, nothing is resolved in our finger pointing. We continue to blame and ignore other factors and people involved. No one wins. 

Lately the blame game seems to be played everywhere. Just turn on the 24-hour news and see indiscriminate finger pointing. Talk to a friend, listen to a coffee shop conversation (It is not eavesdropping if the people are talking too loud. Oops! Did I just blame? :-) ) Everyone has an opinion. We’ve forgotten or do not even know how to listen, reflect, and respond. We’ve forgotten that within us is a twinkling spark of compassion waiting to connect to the twinkling spark in another.

I find myself wondering, how:
  • Do we move past opinion? 
  • Accept responsibility for our role in what is occurring? 
  • Take a step or two down the escalator? 
  • Find a way out of the quagmire? 
  • Turn the blame game into something constructive?

The old structures, the current ways of doing things, just don’t work anymore. I believe the answer lies is tweaking the old structures. I am not a proponent of tossing out the old and starting over. I believe in building upon what we have. Maybe this is a throwback to my parent’s philosophy of not tossing out anything. They found a way to reuse almost everything until it was worn beyond use. They saw value where another saw junk.

I am not about clutter, but about innovation using what we currently have, revamping it into something that we can use anew. As we restructure what is happening in the world from reaction to response, the framework shifts from blame to responsibility. We cannot change the past but we can take responsibility and impact our world positively. We can build upon what we hold in common at our cores. This paradigm shift can only happen in the present moment through open mindedness and intent. 

Finger pointing is a mindless activity. While it is important to understand the foundation of the situation, dwelling on it is counterproductive. This does not mean that those building blocks do not impact our actions going forward. They do. We might choose not to work with someone or withhold trust because of a past experience. We might choose not to engage in certain activities because of our prior experiences. This is not holding on to blame, it is objectively ensuring the best, most transformational outcome. 

Letting go of blame means we are compassionate to our self and others. This compassion ventures into the land of I love you enough. With this form of compassion, we might decide not to interact with someone while taking care not to harm or hurt them. If nothing else, our actions are compassionately benign. We cannot change the past, but we need not compound its effects in the present. Choosing not to blame means being objectively forgiving in full awareness of the past. It is deciding not to get on that escalator while having compassion for those who find themselves at the top. And acknowledging that they did not get to the top alone. They had help. 

Through mindfulness we deescalate the blame game and begin the difficult process of healing wounds and transforming our piece of the world. By withholding blame, we feed a paradigm shift of transformation by compassion. The transformative power of compassion intensifies as we recognize that the problem isn’t out there. Nor is the solution. Both lie within us. Change occurs when we, individually and collectively, transform the world one healing act at a time. In doing so, we move from the blame game into a world of compassionate healing. 


Vanessa F. Hurst, ms, is a Mindful Coach, Compassion Consultant, Professional Speaker, and Author who weaves her inner wisdom into all she touches. Contact Vanessa @ hurst.vanessa@gmail.com.



Website / LinkedIn Profile / Facebook / Twitter: @fyrserpent / ©2017

Tuesday, June 20, 2017

Stoke The Wildfire of Transformation: The Winds of Change



The winds of Change swirl around my feet. Like  the crips yellowish leaves of autumn, Change pokes and prods. Does change urge me on or encourage me to stop and pause?

The winds of Change muss my hair creating a tangled, tousled mess. Hair in my eyes, I cannot quite see what lies just in front of me. Should I comb my hair, clear the tangle from my eyes or trudge blindly on? 

The winds of Change are gale force in one moment and a gentle caress the next. Just when I find my balance in the bluster, the winds diminish to a breeze. Should I anchor myself against the wind or allow it to carry me forward? 

I wake up in the early morning at 3:27 a.m. and feel the drums of change pounding in my head. In the recesses of my mind a voice whispers, “Hail Mary, Full of Grace,” and I whisper along. Not knowing why the words or there or why I chant, I trust and do. Is the message that I, too, am filled with grace?

In moments when the fear of change crashes over me like a tsunami, I feel myself being carried out to the sea of the unknown. Being dragged below the waves, one…two…three, I choose not to drown. Instead I breathe into the strand that connects me to the Sacred. Will this connection bring safety?

As my breath travels from my nostrils into my lungs and throughout my blood vessels, this tiny, infinitesimal, particle of the Sacred flows with it. It becomes the breath nestled in my breath. I feel my resistance dissipate as I become malleable to Change. Should I trust, let go, and ride Sacred’s breath into to the unknown new? 

With each breath the fire in my belly is stoked. The sparks flare throughout my being touching my fears, my self constructed boundaries, my arguments. Will my defenses hold against the holy fire of those divine sparks? Or, will the fire burn away the illusion of what I am leaving me nothing but courage to meet my fears?

My fears and resistance are no real competition to this sacred wildfire racing through me. It burns off the old, the dead, the underbrush that was uncomfortably comforting. How free I feel when what I did not need is gone. I don’t miss what I desperately clung to. The way is cleared for the new. And, I recognize that this thing, this Change really is inevitable, isn’t it?

The wings of change feed the fire of transformation at the ground of my being. The debris of illusion burns away. I welcome change as companion to my transformation. Change is not an enemy but a most intimate stranger-friend. 


Vanessa F. Hurst, ms, is a Mindful Coach, Compassion Consultant, Professional Speaker, and Author who weaves her inner wisdom into all she touches. Contact Vanessa @ hurst.vanessa@gmail.com


Website / LinkedIn Profile / Facebook / Twitter: @fyrserpent / ©2017


Tuesday, June 13, 2017

The Compassion of Meeting Need

Be nice. Do unto others. Treat people as you want to be treated. Navigating the day in connection with others is not an easy task. We get stuck in how we want to be treated instead of what the other person needs. Both of us wind up being frustrated. 

In my book, A Constellation of Connections: Contemplative Relationships, I invite the reader to reflect upon their relationships using two questions:
  • What do I need from a relationship?
  • What does my partner need from the relationship?

We want lots of things, but how much do we really need? Probably not nearly as much as what we want, but we get stuck in a cycle of want that eclipses our needs. (I am fond of telling people that my home is a reflection of want vs. need. I have many things that I purchased at a time when I had more money than sense.) We balance our wants and needs as partners in relationship. When we really reflect upon our wants, we discover they mask what we truly need. We begin to have “more sense” as we meet all of our needs and some of our wants.

Relationships, whether they are with significant others, friends, family, coworkers, acquaintances, and strangers, all have certain foundational needs. I believe we can all agree that mutual respect and compassion are givens. And, surely treating others as you want to be treated is imperative. Really listening to the other moves us past our needs into an awareness of theirs.  

The needs of your partner may be based on the woundedness of the other. Your partner may have a history of being abandoned. They need someone who will support and love them unconditionally. Another may have a strong independent streak and needs freedom to be. Yet another may need regular doses of physical touch or affirmations. The list of what partners need in relationship is endless. 

A friend of mine refers to this way of being with another as the platinum rule. A rule more precious than gold, we are invited to listen to the words and actions of another. Through our listening we discern what they need. Of course, this listening leads to questions that, when answered honestly, bring clarification and deeper understanding. Living the platinum rule requires great communication skills. 

At times we may discover that we cannot be what the other person needs us to be. In an attempt to be what we cannot be, we are fatigued. Exhausted, we cannot even tend to our own personal needs. So, this platinum rule applies to us as well. 

Ask yourself
  • What do I need for me?
  • What is the best way for me to be in relationship with myself? 
  • What do I need in relationship with another? 

Each time we live from those answers, we increase our ability to authentically be our self. In our authenticity we can honestly be what the other person needs or be honest about our inability to be what they need in relationship. Only when we intentionally explore our needs and wants do we open to hearing the needs and wants of another. This is the basis of entering into deep lasting relationship.

At the foundation of relationship is treating our self as we want to be treated so we can honestly treat others as they want to be treated. In giving what is needed we are compassion’s presence.

For more on living in mindful relationship: A Constellation of Connections, Vanessa F. Hurst


Vanessa F. Hurst, ms, is a Mindful Coach, Compassion Consultant, Professional Speaker, and Author who weaves her inner wisdom into all she touches. Contact Vanessa @ hurst.vanessa@gmail.com



Website / LinkedIn Profile / Facebook / Twitter: @fyrserpent / ©2017

Tuesday, June 6, 2017

From Anger To Compassionate Response

Anger…we all experience. For some of us, our reactions are like volcanoes that lay dormant until somethings triggers a spewing forth or anger lava. Others have hair triggers that explode for seemingly no reason. Then there are the ones that I admire. These people are able to respond to their anger by channelling its energy away from violent outbursts into compassionate response.

A Facebook friend suggested that instead of using the anger emoji for every post that threatened to push us past our boiling point, we use the sad emoji. Reframing our emotions allow us to get underneath our feelings of anger. As we dig deeply uncovering the tip of the root, we discover the feeling buried by our anger. Those feeling are often surprising. 

The emotions that I most often find in the taproot of my anger include:

Fear — lately the world seems like a runaway train. I am not even the engineer on this out of control train. I feel the train gaining speed and careening, but I am unable to see exactly what is happening. I feel that I have no control over what is happening. I fear the inevitable impact. 

Sorrow — I find myself wondering how I or the collective could have reach a point of impasse. I feel that there is no painless way out of the current situation. I ruminate over past choices. I am paralyzed by how I reach to my current situation. Nuances of this sorrow may be unresolved grief and unacknowledged loss.

Anxiety — as the world changes, I do not know what the future will bring. Instead of being in the moment, I run potential scenarios in my mind. Any detour, real or imagined, results in increased anxiety. I believe erroneously that the route I have chosen is the only course I can take. 

Anger is triggered by out of control feelings. The ground beneath us is moving. We put all of our energy into standing. We ignore all the overwhelming stimuli and the knowing that maybe we just need to fall to gain a different perspective. We cannot quite find balance and in our fear, our frustration, anger erupts. 

Jill Bolte Taylor in her book, My Stroke of Insight, identifies the life span of an emotion. From the time it impacts the physical body until it leaves it is approximately 90 seconds. When we get caught in those unacknowledged underlying emotions, we often misname what we are feeling. What should be 90 seconds trip though an emotion goes on much longer. Instead of the flow and subsequent ebb, anger bursts forward. Our angst and fears feeds the cycle. 

When we are in the moment, fully aware of our emotions, we stand as witness to each incoming emotion. We adopt the stance of the objective observer as we dig beneath our feelings to name the emotions at its roots. This naming alleviates some of the stress and reduces the potential explosive harm of anger. 

Circumventing the high emotions such as anger require that we know our self — body, mind, spirit, and heart. And, in the knowing, we gain the ability to identify our emotions, accurately name them, and ride the flow to the ebb. 


Vanessa F. Hurst, ms, is a Mindful Coach, Compassion Consultant, Professional Speaker, and Author who weaves her inner wisdom into all she touches. Contact Vanessa @ hurst.vanessa@gmail.com


Website / LinkedIn Profile / Facebook / Twitter: @fyrserpent / ©2017