The Power of Intention and Imagination

A big shift occurred in my life when I learned the power of intention and imagination.

It was the year 2003 and I lived 40 minutes from the town where my kids went to school and lived. When I drove to pick them up I was often filled with nervous anticipation since the transition for them from life with Dad to life with Mom was not easy. And sure enough, the ride back to my house was often stressful. And then a dear friend suggested that as I got closer to their Dad's house I should envision what I hoped the reunion to be like, feel like, sound like. This person asked me to imagine what it would feel like to hug them, smell them and hear their voices. And so I tried it. The impact was profound.

There were other experiences too, where the power of intention was exposed too baldly to deny. One was a younger friend who was weary of dating and pessimistic of her chances of finding the man with whom she would co-create a family. I said to her, "The truth is that there is a man out there who is preparing to be part of your life. He doesn't know you yet but he is imagining you. Imagine him too. Make a place for him at your dinner table. Get ready." And she reports that this exercise resulted in the man who is now the father of her beautiful little girl.

Unfortunately "setting intentions" feels a bit too "New Agey" for many people. That's a shame. We could use all the help we can get. No harm in believing that our thoughts have power and setting out to think them with clear and hope-full intention might just change our lives. 

Setting intention is not the same as holding cherished outcomes. Nothing like rigid expectations to ruin a party, a marriage, a trip. So with this trip I begin by filling my mind with images of the landscape and how I will travel through it—slowly and wide-eyed. I imagine meeting fellow travelers and sharing lamb stew and a pint. I imagine my inner clock getting reset by the sun and the moon. I imagine my mind unwinding like an old-fashioned clock and my body following its own rhythm. 

What have you been imagining lately?

Following My Muse

In May I will be walking through western Ireland alone with a backpack and a deep longing to lose myself in that landscape. When Todd and I rode our bikes there in 2017, the green hills of Limerick made me cry and even though rain soaked me through on our way to Doolin I felt a love for this land like none other. Sitting in the pub that night, packed tight with warmth and smiling faces, the fiddle music wooed and held me on moist air. When we flew home two weeks I knew I would return. 

With the pandemic in 2019 came a new intensity to my work as a consultant in schools that has not let up. First it was to pivot my work to the online demands, then it was the call to collaborate in order to better meet the growing need for restorative work. Ironically, as I increased the focus of my trainings to support educator's mental health, mine faded. This year however, I've taken more and more steps to practice what I preach, which is to create more quiet, unplugged time to rest and connect with what feeds me.

My decision to travel back to Ireland was fueled by re-listening to Krista Tippet's interview with John O'Donohue called the Inner Landscape of Beauty. He begins by saying,  

"What amazes me about landscape, landscape recalls you into a mindful mode of stillness, solitude, and silence, where you can truly receive time." 

He goes on to talk about the landscape of his youth—The Burren in Western Ireland. As I recalled walking on that stark landscape with Todd I could feel my body and mind relax. O'Donohue says, 

"Well, I suppose I was blessed by being born into an amazing landscape in the west of Ireland. And it’s the Burren region, which is limestone. And it’s a bare limestone landscape. And I often think that the forms of the limestone are so abstract and aesthetic, and it is as if they were all laid down by some wild, surrealistic kind of deity. So soon, being a child and coming out into that, it was waiting, like a huge, wild invitation to extend your imagination. And then it’s right on the edge of the ocean, as well, so the conversation — an ancient conversation between the ocean and the stone going on."

Only a few weeks after listening to these words, I had booked my tickets for a three-week walkabout starting on The Burren Way. From there I plan to travel North to Gort by bus where Sir Dermot O’Shaughnessy and his family lived in the Gort castle until 1697 when King William III confiscated the property. Galway will be a short bus ride from there where I will stage another walkabout along the Western Way. All this is a sketch of a plan. All I know for sure is that I will walk the Burren, I will walk alone and I will let the rest unfold.

Me on top of the Gap of Dunloe, 2017