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Browse published articles attributed to Susan McNeal Velasquez, with full-archive search.
Are you in a losing battle with time? Do you have too much to do and not enough time to do it? Are you always running late or just making it under the wire without a moment to spare? The time issue is a struggle for many. Rather than criticizing yourself or blaming your responsibilities for your troubles, let's stop and take a look at what makes up a time commitment.
is it possible to keep our equilibrium when the world seems to be spinning out of control? Negative news abounds. The airwaves are crowded with messages of turmoil, despair and mental, emotional and spiritual chaos.
Some of my most cherished beliefs about who I am are the exact ones that I have had to surrender to allow the winds of transformation entrance into my life. When I married at nineteen, I was crystal clear that I was making a solemn vow “for better or worse/ for richer or poorer/ in sickness and in health/till death do us part.” Twenty-three years and four children later, I came to a crisis point of no return.
Nothing else ever will make you as happy or as sad, as proud or as tired, for nothing is quite as hard as helping a person develop her own individuality – especially while you struggle to keep your own. The Mother’s Almanac (1975) Mothering Matters It is a marvel how new mothers today keep anxiety at bay, with the endless bombardment of information about perfect parenting they receive. Each stage of the baby’s development is analyzed and the list of things to avoid and to watch out for continues to grow.
The quick definition of thriving is to flourish and prosper. My teaching interests have shifted considerably over the years, until my full attention is on uncovering and discovering what it takes to amass enough personal power so that thriving is the outcome, no matter what curve life decides to throw. The journey to the land of thriving starts with a decision to leave the well traveled, rocky and potholed road called “Life is hard and then you die”.
I think I have landed on the underlying problem between men and women. The core issue. Probably the basic cause for all misunderstanding. Are you ready? Here it is. The story of Cinderella. Little girls are brought up with this story implanted in their brain at a very young age. Our first role model. Boys, on the other hand, could care less about this story because there are no action figures. The prince is merely a backdrop. Even the mice get higher billing. Anyway, here is a quick sketch of the plot.
As this new year comes out of the gate, my personal consulting work is bringing me aspects of life that can’t be fixed or figured out with a quick solution or a fast answer. Often, all that is appropriate is to just show up. Be there. Listen. First, hearing the details of what has happened and simultaneously, sensing, being aware of, being touched by, the nuances of frustration, disappointment, fear, grief, sadness, anger, etc. that piggyback into the conversation as the details unfold.
When my twenty-seven year old nephew arrived at the family barbeque last week, he greeted me with a hug and a fond memory. “Hi, Aunt Sue. Remember when we used to play team hide and seek?”
I’ve been asked why I named my book beyond intellect instead of unleash the power of your intuition. That’s a fair question, so I thought I’d try to answer it. We live in a task-oriented, skill-based society. After the question, “What is your name?” is answered; the next question is usually, “What do you do?” Normally our intellect is the designated driver, as we speed down the highway of life following the road signs that will lead us, as quickly as possible, to more and bigger accomplishments.
Death was not to be a leap: it was to be a long descent under thickening shadows. George Elliot – The Mill on the Floss (1860) My mother is eighty-eight. She has congestive heart failure. She has a pacemaker. She takes medications. Her breathing is labored. She is tired. She has no energy or interests. Food has no taste. She has no quality of life and she isn’t dead. She is in Limbo Land.
Remember when the transformer action figures were the current got-to-have toys for most boys? I would watch my grandson twist and turn limbs, torsos and heads with a surety and speed that was mind-boggling. “How did you do that?” “Easy!” he would say. Easy for him. When I tried, I would randomly bend and twist different parts but just couldn’t seem to get the knack of it. The whole concept was unfamiliar to me and my motivation to learn how to turn one object into something else was low.
Our outer surroundings supply nourishment for creative endeavors and the pursuit of fulfilling the dream of living a quality life. The not so obvious challenge that we each face is how to grow an internal life that matches the vibrancy and illumination that makes up our outer reality. Are you living a desert life, when you have the real opportunity to live a more moist, lush and fruit-bearing life? This is not to say that the desert isn’t beautiful, it is just that it must work harder to survive under the rays of an often too harsh and relentlessly hot sun.
I have great admiration for professional golfers. They have a mighty career task. They plan their schedules a year in advance, hire their own caddies and make their own travel arrangements. They play in a professional-amateur tou ament the day before competition begins, which requires being gracious, sociable and also attempting to play well, so they don't embarrass themselves.
A definition of the word pivot is to consciously change the direction of one’s thoughts; to deliberately choose a thought that is in vibrational harmony with one’s desires. When we decide to take responsibility for the authorship and ownership of the quality of our lives, we take on the role of both creative director and chief editor of our daily realities. These two tasks, creating and editing, require different skills.
Attics and basements were a staple of most houses on the East Coast, where I was brought up. The attic was often stifling hot, cramped and suffocating. You would ascend a steep, narrow stairway, a storage box held precariously in hand, and deposit it in the nearest empty space, relieved to get down the stairs as quickly as possible and back to fresh air.