- Excerpt
The Cabin
an excerpt from the new book
ALTER YOUR LIFE
by Dr. Kathleen Hall
INTRODUCTION
Dr. Kathleen Hall is a former World Trade Center stockbroker turned
stress management expert and founder of The Stress Institute. Her message
of mindfulness will be welcomed by all those who seek a less stressful,
more meaningful life.
The excerpt follows Dr. Hall as she dumps a high-profile Manhattan lifestyle
to live on a Georgia farm with no electricity or indoor plumbing. While
restoring her farm, she earns degrees in divinity from Emory and Columbia.
She then studies under some of the world's greatest leaders in spirituality
and medicine, including Nobel Peace Prize winners President Jimmy Carter,
the Dalai Lama, Bishop Desmond Tutu, Dr. Herbert Benson of the Mind/Body
Medical Institute at Harvard, Dr. Dean Ornish of The Preventative Medicine
Institute, and Dr. Jon Kabat-Zinn of the Center for Mindfulness at the
University of Massachusetts. Her story is truly extraordinary.
Remarkably, Dr. Hall's new book recommends -- not the sort of drastic
life changes she has navigated -- but the most simple and rewarding transition
any stressed-out individual can make: paying attention to the moment.
Her book covers the basic routine we all live: waking, eating, commuting,
shopping, cleaning, sleeping... For Dr. Hall and for you, each moment
in that day can be transformed from routine to profound.
More information about the book, Alter Your Life, and
author Dr. Kathleen Hall follows the excerpt. Enjoy.
The Cabin
by Dr. Kathleen Hall
We can do no great things --
only small things with great love.
-- Mother Theresa
As I pushed open the old log cabin door, two black scorpions rushed
across the planked floors and disappeared into the fireplace. An unfriendly
welcome, but I knew there was no turning back. A faint light filtered
through the closed shutters. It smelled musty and moldy; I was sure the
room hadn't been opened in years. The old wood floor creaked as I slowly
walked across it to open the shutters and invite the daylight in.
Standing in the midst of dancing cobwebs and swirling dust, I realized
I had taken my first step on a journey with no map, no directions and
no clear destination. In the stark silence of that moment, a certain
sense of peace swept across the room and engulfed me. I knew my choice
to live an intentional life would change the rest of my life, and, for
the first time, I sensed the adventure and the uncertainty of my choice.
The cabin had no electricity, no water, no gas, no kitchen, and no bathroom.
I surveyed the outside and discovered the outhouse and a rain barrel
on the far side of the cabin. Back on the front porch, I snuggled into
an old rocking chair that had been left behind. In anticipation of the
days ahead, I pulled a scrap of paper from my pocket to write on.
As I began making a list of how-to books I would need on plumbing, construction,
and electrical work, a rush of energy and a sense of power surged deeply
through my body. I grinned as I rocked back and forth in the tattered
rocker that creaked with each rock. In this primitive cabin in the north
Georgia mountains, I was a long way from my previous life.
~ The Unintentional Life ~
I was working in New York City, flying back and forth to Atlanta each
week. My life was a hectic race. But I had all the trappings of success
as measured by our culture. As a stockbroker at a Wall Street firm, I
was set on a model of doing everything faster and better than any of
my competitors.
My aspiration was to have it all. I am the oldest daughter in a family
of seven children and groomed for self- reliance. From the time I was
a little girl, I wanted to be a successful woman. For me, that meant
having an upwardly mobile career, a successful husband, perfect children,
a nice home, a great car, elegant clothes, and fabulous vacations. I
constantly worked to keep a perfect dress size and drove the ultimate
driving machine to match.
My life was very well calculated and moving at a planned, orchestrated
pace, when one day -- in a split second -- everything stopped.
I had landed at the airport as usual early Monday morning and grabbed
a cab to the World Trade Center. I got out of the cab, entered the building,
and headed for the elevator. All of a sudden, my chest was so tight I
could hardly breathe. We were all packed into the elevator as usual,
but this time as it sped up to my office, I thought I was having a heart
attack. I lurched off the elevator and lay against the wall.
Three hours later, I was still against the same wall and hadn't moved
an inch. An attentive security guard had noticed -- and perhaps because
he had seen it before -- made a diagnosis of a panic attack.
Little did I know that would be the first of many to follow. It wasn't
too long until insomnia began to haunt me at night, while panic attacks
continued to plague me during the day. I became obsessively aware of
the people that surrounded me each day.
Along with the panic attacks and insomnia, a new keen sense of awareness
began to emerge. As I went to work each day, I noticed we all seemed
to look and act like zombies. It felt like we were trained to do the
same thing over and over again. I noticed how people were buying lunch
from a sidewalk cart then mindlessly eating as they walked away. Everywhere
I looked, everyone and everything began to look the same. It seemed as
if we were all in some trance. My well-designed life had started to unravel.
Later, still in New York, I was studying for my commodity boards when
I stumbled upon an old copy of Henry David Thoreau's journal in the apartment
where I was staying. I dusted off the front of the book, turned to the
first page and it read:
"I went to the woods because I wished to live
deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if
I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die,
discover that I had not lived."
Little did I know then that these words would change my life forever.
My initial response to that famous passage was shock, confusion, and
an indescribably immense sadness. Was I living deliberately? Was I living
an intentional life? How in the heck did I know what the essential facts
of life were? And if I die tomorrow, have I really lived at all? Is living
in the middle of this rat race really living?
Thoreau's words made me painfully aware that
the course I had charted for my life was far from "intentional." I had carved out an outwardly "successful" life,
and it had become a prison of my own design. My life had nothing to do
with my authentic self or with an awareness of my own desires and dreams.
I had not been in the woods since I was a child. I knew nothing about
the realities of living in nature, and the mere thought that nature held
the possibility of teaching me something both intrigued and terrified
me. A fundamental shift occurred in that moment, and I knew there was
no turning back.
One week later, I purchased a farm with an old log cabin that sat by
a lake. There wasn't even a road into the cabin from the main road. I
had to hike to the cabin for the first year. I was determined to live
up to Thoreau's challenge. I was going to face the challenge of living
an intentional life. I would turn this land into a working farm. With
each step, I chose to release the life I had so masterfully orchestrated
and designed, and I surrendered to the unfolding of an intentional life.
My choice to surrender had begun....
~ The Stall ~
Not so long ago, I was sitting in the corner of the stall at my stables
after foaling out a mare, and I reflected on the choices I have made
in my own life. I now live in the woods full time, and it has taught
me much. Many lessons have come to me as I built this farm and made the
choice to live an intentional life.
Many incredible people have inspired me along the way: the ninety-year-old
farmer down the road that still makes hominy and cans his own sauerkraut;
the eighty-eight-year- old, near-blind woman who made me a prize-winning
quilt at the country fair; my elderly patient who has survived both legs
being amputated, blindness and renal dialysis, but still responds to
life with a smile on her face. There are so many simple, holy people
in the woods who have taught me a lot. As I slowed down and listened
to their stories, I discovered the profound depth of their awareness.
These teachers of mine have created intentional lives of their own choosing.
I am also blessed with the four-legged angels that inspire me daily:
my dogs, cats and horses.
Most people would see the surrender of a life on Wall Street to a life
in a log cabin in the north Georgia woods as opposite ends of the scale.
By comparison to what others have done, I realize every day my goal is
to live an intentional life, and I still have very far to go.
It takes one courageous step at a time. People who live extraordinary
lives are in fact ordinary people who make choices that lead to extraordinary
circumstances. These choices are often very small, and these choices
are available to you.
Our lives are filled with seemingly mundane, everyday tasks, tasks we
often mindlessly or begrudgingly complete as quickly as we can. Perhaps
because we live in a world where bigger, faster, and first are seen as
best, often the smallest and simplest things are dismissed or overlooked.
But it is these small, simple, everyday moments that can be a gateway
to growth and renewal. Routine activities such as working, shopping,
reading -- not extraordinary events -- hold the potential to bring you
a life of greater peace, balance, and contentment.
