Not long ago, I almost passed this tiny creature on a rainy stroll through country roads near my home one evening.
I assumed it was just another rock, but something slowed me down as I passed by.
I backed up and crouched down to get a better look.
A teeny tiny turtle.
Process oriented therapist, Amy Mindell, would call this a “flirt,” a particular something that could easily go unnoticed, but gets your attention in a way that you can pause and then can ask, “What might this be trying to express to me?”
For me, it was a little invitation to let go of the agenda I was clinging to today, roll with the current mood, and just enjoy a more a restorative kind of pace that evening.
I found this was a much better fit for me.
Invitations (a term I’ve come to love, via C. Michael Smith) come to us in a variety of forms whether somatically, by way of a comment from a friend or random person while running errands, a meaningful number or word on a license plate, a synchronicity, a particular dream, a lingering pain or symptom, a depression, or a frustrating eating habit that doesn’t seem to want to budge.
Or by way of a “flirt.”
During the work I do with clients, even if I don’t speak to it directly, one part of me is always very present to content of the conversation in a session together while another part is staying open to invitations presenting themselves.
Here’s an example:
The 3pm Sugar Slump
There’s a sub-set of us ladies out there that enjoy being productive and efficient throughout the day. A natural shift in energy or mood may feel like an inconvenience to push past.
I’ve spoken to a number of women who find that their afternoon sugar-eating habit (that they so despise) often creeps in during one of these “less efficient” cycles (a NATURAL down cycle of energy, by the way).
The invitation seems simple enough: Take some more breaks.
But if you feel into it, it’s actually inviting the eater to re-evaluate the way she enters her world, consider the value of play, rest, “non-productive” ways of being, perhaps even tending to her interior life, one of dreaming or feeling…the sort of spaciousness that allows for intuitive hits and gut feelings.
It’s a space to find value in simply being.
Or a space to accept human needs.
Or an invitation in learning how to flow with the natural rhythms of life.
Or a space to feel into what’s truly important by turning inward.
These are lovely invitations, don’t you think?
I hope this has your gears turning