Greetings, sisters!

Wow-sunshine and warmth have finally made their blessed appearance in the Northwest, just in time for the Summer Solstice. Seattleites are emerging from their 7 month hibernation with smiles. These next five months are what we all live for here: blue skies, bluer waters, flowers, picnics, the good life...

May you, wherever you live, receive the blessings of the deeply pleasured life at Summer Solstice.

With love and pleasure,

THE PLEASURE OF HOOTLESSNESS

I had the delight of leading a retreat this past weekend for a wonderful group of over-45 women. We laughed, we cried, we swam in the richness of each other’s company.

Sisters, I love to teach, but there was something about enjoying this retreat that went way beyond any fun I’ve ever had leading a group. I knew it was happening while it was happening, but I was enjoying these women, and myself, so much I didn’t want to step out of the flow to figure out what was different.

As I was driving home I realized what it was: I had experienced divine hootlessness.

Hootlessness, you may ask?

Yup. Hootlessness.

A very wise (and over 45, of course) man, Lester Levenson of the Sedona Method, made up this juicy word. We spend precious life energy trying to make things happen, or not happen. We give events and people the power to bestow or take away our own pleasure and happiness. Hootlessness is about releasing the stranglehold that getting or not getting has on us. Hootlessness is true acceptance of what is, and, Lester said, the most powerful place from which to create anything, from specific goals to the journey of our own lives.

I took the Sedona Method when I was 40. I sipped the nectar of hootlessness, and I wanted more.

Trouble was, I was much younger, and so what I did was try harder. Do I have to tell you trying harder doesn’t work? I put the Sedona Method away and moved on to the next program I hoped would deliver the radiant aliveness I so wanted.

Fast forward a decade and a half, and a lot of water under the bridge (you know the works: empty nest, menopause, divorce, etc etc etc). Somewhere, in all that, grace happened, sometime after turning 50:

I let go (well, mostly) of trying: trying to get people to like me. Trying to make everything go my way. Trying to make my husband over into The Perfect Guy. Trying to halt the southward migration of my body parts.

But I didn’t have a name for the joy that followed letting go of all that struggle, of truly not giving a rip if I didn’t get voted most well-loved gal on the planet, appear on Oprah, write a New York Times bestseller, or recapture my girlish waist.

Not until this past weekend, that is. Hootlessness!

I truly didn’t give a hoot whether I was doing a “great job” teaching and facilitating. I didn’t give a hoot whether these ladies thought I was the best thing since frozen yogurt. I didn’t give a hoot whether they gave me a 5 star rating at the end of the retreat. I didn’t give a hoot whether or not every word that passed my lips was immensely wise or uproariously funny.

If you had told 40 year old me that I could lead a retreat while not give even the teeniest hoot about all this, I would have been worried. Very worried. I would have imagined a me not trying very hard at all to be the best teacher and facilitator I could possibly be. I would have imagined me sloppy, mediocre, and indifferent..

Well, that 40 year old me would certainly have been right on the first count. I didn’t try at all to be the be the best teacher I could be. No effort whatsoever, nada. I truly didn’t give a hoot.

What she would have been dead wrong on, though, was the results of that utter hootlessness. Instead of getting mired in incompetence, I found wings, I felt more alive and engaged that I’d ever been (which is saying a whole lot, given that I’ve loved teaching for 30 years).

Instead of indifference, I cared deeply. Not about what these fine women thought of me, or even what I thought of me. Rather, my heart was wildly, passionately open to our individual and collective wellbeing, to the unfolding of our journeys, to the winds of grace that are blowing through all of us, all the time.

Maybe we created that hootless field together, and then spent the day romping in it. I’m thinking that this may be one of the great graces of passing 50: the emergence of hootlessness.

I wonder how much real hootlessness simply can’t happen until after the half-century. We have to recognize (sometimes on our worn out knees) the futility of trying harder and struggling. We’re learning to hold our lives, and our selves, a whole lot more loosely. We don’t have to take ourselves so seriously.

It’s the blissful, rip-snorting freedom of finally getting to be plenty enough, just as we are.

After a time of vision walking at the retreat, one of the women reported that instead of walking toward her ideal self, she just wanted to walk into — with open arms and heart — who she simply was right then. That, she discovered, was her true ideal self: herself, just as she was, the whole schmeer.

Sisters, she was surfing on the grand waves of hootlessness. And those waves brought her home to her sweet self.

I was surfing right there beside her. Instead of trying to be the best facilitator I could be (a noble cause, but a little exhausting), I was just Yours Truly.

And that utter hootlessness — Big Surprise! — allowed me to show up completely, be utterly present to not just myself, but these glorious ladies, and the community that we formed. That hootlessness, truly not giving a hoot about how good or loveable I was, allowed us all to shine forth in our unique glories.

In other words, we all had a divine hoot. The hoot of the Great Hootlessness.

Sisters, I wish I could attach a sample snort right here with the newsletter.

I think — brace yourselves here — the hoot of the Great Hootlessness is finer than even Godiva 62% dark chocolate.

Who woulda thunk that passing 50 could bring such a great and remarkable gift?

Ladies, I’m gonna play more with hootlessness. I invite you to play with me.

I’d love to hear from you. When have you experienced hootlessness? What keeps you from it? How do you find your way into this luscious state of grace?

This pleasure is far too wonderful to keep to ourselves. I’ll share your goodies in the next newsletter.

This week, may the bird of hootlessness fly up your nose.

Or, better yet, may she find a roost in your wonderful, open, post-50 heart.

COACHING SESSIONS WITH MELISSA
If you would like to:

• Experience deep and authentic pleasure in your life
• Create a life that sings for you, free from struggle and efforting
• Free yourself from damaging cultural myths about growing older that limit your aliveness, creativity, and unique genius
• Making a meaningful difference in this time in your life
• Deepen your spiritual journey in a way that reflects who you are now
• Reclaim curiosity, gratitude, and wonder for your journey

Read more about how you can benefit from private coaching with Melissa: http://www.MelissaGayleWest.com
If you're interested, contact Melissa at Melissa@MelissaGayleWest.com, or 206.427.1325

 ABOUT Pleasure and Soul
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This newsletter and all content within it is Copyright(c) Melissa Gayle West 2007 except where otherwise noted. All rights reserved. I encourage you to share this newsletter or reprint material from it in other electronic or print publications, provided a link to http://www.MelissaGayleWest.com and copyright information are included in the credits. Please send a copy of the publication.

Melissa Gayle West
106 NW 104th St.
Seattle, WA 98177