Woman shouting stop while holding p her hands


Oh, the irony! What did I do the day after I decided it was time to start up this blog again? With a post that began “I’ve realized I need to slow down and put aside everything that isn’t in the interest of my peace” no less? I flew headlong down a bunch of steep steps and landed SPLAT on my face. Peace Smeace. Seems I wasn’t getting my own message.

As a Facebook friend smartly asked about my face-defacing fall: “Was it a slow down or a watch where you are going message?” Both, I knew at once. While I am not a big believer in “signs,” the fall stopped me dead in my tracks all right. It forced me to lie down and pay attention to the immediate needs of my badly battered body, for all of a day or two anyway. While I hadn’t been asking for a dose of humility—but can usually use one—I got some of that, too. Phew!

Whether the fall was a signal from the universe with my name on it, I’m painfully aware that enough attention has not been paid. I’m still not getting the message coming at me from all sides, especially inside. And the message is that I really, really need to STOP.

Whatever I’ve been doing, outside and inside, is not working well for me—either to sell books or to induce the blessed ease I seek. Too often I’ve been spinning wheels and now I fall flat on my face. Yes, I need to stop, but stop what? Rushing about indoors in dark glasses, obviously. It’s at a deeper, more critical level, though, where I must apply the brakes, for my sake and for yours.

First and foremost, I need to stop doubting myself and the selfsame universe which might or might not be messaging me. I need to trust that I (and the universe) are fine and dandy just as we are—and I don’t have to do anything that doesn’t feel entirely right to move my life along.

But so long as I rush about to keep up with an increasingly frenzied virtual world that promises me the moon (reflections of fame and fortune), it’s damned difficult to slow down enough to remember this dear soul-self I’m so eager to share. Who I am gets lost in the shuffle. And it’s she—me!—who needs to surface, of course, if I’m to get clear about what matters most to me, and what I do and don’t want to do about it—the pundits’ enticing advice be damned!

If you have been here (on my blog) before, you may know I have been here (at this STOP sign) before. Apparently, I wasn’t ready to get off the roller-coaster right then, fear of failure still nipping hard at my heels. So I kept at it until it bit me. Have I finally had enough? Is the time to stop and reassess now? Dear God, I hope so, if my nasty fall is any indication of what the universe has in store should I not listen up this time. (Okay, so maybe I do believe in signs.)

How about you? Do you believe in signs? Anything showing up in your life calling you to stop—or to step up? We love to hear the insights you’ve gleaned from your one-of-a-kind life. And if you have questions, throw them out for us all to contemplate. Most of all, please ask for support when you need it. We are a rarely dedicated group, so let’s use each other to grow.

Meanwhile, thank you so much for being here to greet me as I return from blog vacation and continue healing. You mean more to me than you know. Great blessings and courage to us all!

About the Author: Suzanne Grenager

A seasoned writer and mentor with a gift for helping people see and be their most authentic, empowered Self.


  1. terry September 25, 2012 at 11:31 am - Reply

    Suzanne, I was so excited to get your blog today, but saddened to read about your fall. Yes, I do believe that the universe generally provides to us the lessons we most need to practice. Whether we are coaching a client or tending to ourselves, the constant reminders of our own weaknesses tend to loom in our hearts, bodies or minds. Be kind to yourself as you continue to heal, and possibly this STOP sign is merely suggesting that the road you are on needs to be closed for repair, and hopefully you will find the detour much more relaxing and comfortable!
    Gace to you!

    • Suzanne Grenager September 27, 2012 at 2:05 pm - Reply

      Terry, I am thrilled you have joined our community and am touched by your concern for me. I suspect you are right that we’re only temporarily “closed for repairs,” as I am already feeling more relaxed and able to absorb the lesson that has been given. And I see now that it’s not so much about stopping as it is about paying close attention, especially to how I am being with myself. Gently, gently is the call. Thank you, dear one, for being here!

  2. Donnafleetwood September 25, 2012 at 12:52 pm - Reply

    Ouch! I could almost feel it with you. Slowing down is at the request of the our bodies and those minor and major signs. I’m in New Mexico reading poetry ( which is a great way to slow down) and sitting under cottonwoods. I do know that in time, I will crave the excitement of running around with my hair on fire again. Otherwise, how would I know that this is heaven? Please take care, and wil you be around on Oct 2? I have an extra ticket to Maya Angelou and I’d like nothing better than to take my favorite writer. Heal yourself, and take rest.

    • Suzanne Grenager September 27, 2012 at 2:17 pm - Reply

      Rest and healing is underway, dear Donna. Ten hours last night, thank God & the dreamweavers. Reading poetry under the New Mexico cottonwoods sounds pretty darned divine, as does going with you to Maya Angelou. Thank you, thank you for the invite, but sadly I will be 1000 miles away that day. Can you ask her to postpone it? Anyway, hope I’ll be back in time to help you put out your flaming hair and move to co-create heaven wherever you are. You deserve nothing less, glorious girl.

  3. Kate_danaher September 25, 2012 at 1:46 pm - Reply

    Geez, Suzanne.  Glad you are OK.  That could have been really horrible. Take care.Kate XXOOP.S. Got your book in the mail and looking forward to cozy fall nights of reading by the fire!  Yes, trying too to slow down!

    • Suzanne Grenager September 27, 2012 at 2:32 pm - Reply

      Thanks so much, sweet Kate. Yes. I am REALLY lucky that at my now officially “old” age I didn’t break a leg, dislocate a shoulder or, okay, paralyze my spine. It was a terrible fall without terrible repercussions (not even a concussion :). Feeling pretty blessed about that. I’m honored you bought my book and hope it helps *your* slow down. Weirdly, I am re-reading “Bare Naked” myself for just such inspiration.

  4. Maurie September 25, 2012 at 5:40 pm - Reply

    I’m wondering if you’ve taken the time to breathe, receive and expand into all that you’ve created in this recent past. I love the idea of growing a nervous system that can handle massive amounts of positive energy. I hear this as an opportunity to expand even more into your full potential! 
    Lots of love to you and your healing. 

    • Suzanne Grenager September 27, 2012 at 5:16 pm - Reply

      Maurie, Maurie, bless you for your astute observation and thoughtful question. I have taken time, but clearly not *enough* time to savor (though I prefer your term “expand into”) what the universe and I co-created. Like many a new mother with her baby, the great effort — and value — of preparing for and giving birth has gotten lost (and devalued) in the face of dealing with the thing itself! I fuss about my book’s reception rather than appreciating how beautiful it is — and the near miracle that it exists at all. You’re right it is about “reception.” my opening to receive what has transpired.

      I too like the “idea of growing a nervous system that can handle massive amounts of positive energy.” Is this your idea? Whether yours or someone else’s, would you be willing to expand (that word again) on what you mean by this? I am SURE I’m not the only one who might be enthralled. Meanwhile, may *I* expand into that full potential you envision for me. I can feel your wisdom supporting me. Thank you.

  5. Vickifoxpro September 26, 2012 at 10:31 am - Reply

    Another well written, authentic piece that I certainly can identify with, and I believe most of your audience can, too.  So sorry you have had this painful experience that we can all learn from.   I am reminded of Yogi Bhajan’s (Master of Kundalini Yoga) three ways to thrive in the Aquarian Age.  The first is Know Yourself.  Isn’t that what you are encouraging us to do, Suzanne?  The second is Allow Things to Come To You.  Ah, for me, that is the challenge.  All of us doers out there might feel, as I do, that I constantly need to make things happen.  And the third rule is Share We Everyone.  Thank you, my dear friend, for sharing your innermost thoughts with us all.  May you heal quickly.

    • Suzanne Grenager September 28, 2012 at 1:28 pm - Reply

      And thank *you*, dear, dear Vicki, for sharing your precious self so freely, here now, and always with your Women of Intention tribe. And boy are we on the same page — you, I and Yogi Bhajan — about the critical importance of allowing things to come to us rather than struggling to make them happen. We are in full accord, too, about the immense value (to us and others) of knowing and sharing ourselves — I love Yogi B’s words “with EVERYONE.” No holds barred in giving up (our masks & our Type A ways) and giving ourselves over to others in full-surrendered unconditional love. I suspect you are right that we are not alone in finding this task of a lifetime to be the very hardest thing to (not 🙂 do. And we are doing it, Vicki, we are!

  6. Lynne September 26, 2012 at 5:19 pm - Reply

    Suzanne, I hope your body is healing from your fall and that you’re relearning about slowing down and paying attention to your Self. I can, indeed, relate to your need to re-member about taking care of yourself. I am slowly working at slowing my mind so that my days are more ordered and serene. I wish us both success! Until we have to re-re-learn the lesson!

    • Suzanne Grenager September 27, 2012 at 6:48 pm - Reply

      Yes, yes, dear Lynne. Very cute. To “re-re-learn” the value of slowing down our minds and, so, ourselves, is something I, and I gather many of us, seem to have to do. But so what? We have each other and that may be more than enough. Thanks for being here to remind me I am not alone in the seemingless endless challenge of self-love and care. All blessings to you, my editor and friend.

  7. Betsy September 27, 2012 at 3:30 am - Reply

    Suzanne!!! So sorry to hear of your fall. Sending lots of love and healing energy to you……….and a big hug!

    • Suzanne Grenager September 27, 2012 at 4:50 pm - Reply

      Thank you SO much for your healing love and sympathy, beautiful Betsy. It means a lot to me! Can’t wait to see you soon.

  8. Dagmar September 28, 2012 at 9:42 pm - Reply

    Great to have you back Suzanne and sorry to hear of your injury- the week following my fathers death I inexplicably ran into an open door, giving myself a black eye and bruises all over my upper body- to this day I have no logical explanation for how I managed to do this- ie: not see the door that was right in front of me. At the time I chalked it up to acute grieving, but obviously I also experienced a lapse of paying attention. I’ve also had falls that occurred so suddenly that I wondered if I actually blacked out for a moment, causing the fall. As many have stated these occurrences usually support us in slowing down, my advice would be not to overanalyze it, but give yourself all the time, love and TLC you need and deserve. Chocolate doesn’t hurt either!!

    • Suzanne Grenager October 1, 2012 at 1:57 pm - Reply

      Oh, Dagmar, thank you. Hearing about your mystery falls helps me feel like less of a *klutz* than I probably am (and I say that about msyelf as lovingly as possible :). No blacking out here; simply a lapse of attention, as you politely put it, in not observing the odd angling of the unlit stairwell I was zipping down, wearing very dark sunglasses and loose, backless shoes yet. No more analysis, lots of TLC — and, yes, chocolate and a few more trips out in the boat. Always glad you are here!

  9. aegiscoach October 1, 2012 at 2:59 pm - Reply

    And so it is that you continue to teach us, dear Suzanne. I hope your body is mending from this abrupt fall into the ouch. As I embark on my own book writing journey, I am learning much from yours. You are solidifying my desire to rely on my own wisdom rather than leaning on the pundits; not to “rush about to keep up with an increasingly frenzied virtual world that promises me the moon (reflections of fame and fortune).” I have a deep longing to just let it “be” whatever it will be. Thank you, thank you, thank you and bless you, once more, for putting ALL of you forth … ouches and all. Love you! Sheila

    • Suzanne Grenager October 3, 2012 at 2:49 pm - Reply

      Dearest Sheila! There is nothing I want more than to be of exemplary service to you and others who long to “let it be.” For when we let it be, we are trusting that we ourselves — and the universal wisdom that is our true nature — are great enough to sustain and guide us. To let life *be as it is* is to live in love, the only antidote to the fear that drives our frenzied and gorgeous world. I wish you great success with your book, which is to say I hope the fuller expression of you that it represents will bring much joy and satisfaction!

  10. Karen October 3, 2012 at 4:26 am - Reply

    Suzanne, it takes a lot of humility to share an episode like this.  I never like to talk about falling.  My ego tells me there’s something “incompetent” about falling, so thanks for sharing your story.  That really sounds serious–definitely a message/sign from the Universe!  It could have been so much worse–broken nose, split head, broken bones (or neck).  What a lucky girl!  I think everything is a message from the universe, but when I know it could have been really serious, but wasn’t, it’s definitely a sign to stop and reassess, and I’ve had a few of those in the past year:).  May you recover quickly–as soon as you figure out the “message.”

    • Suzanne Grenager October 3, 2012 at 3:16 pm - Reply

      Oh, Karen, I *really* appreciate your comment about this post requiring humility. I suppose it did. It occurred to me that I could come across as elderly or infirm (perhaps more than “incompetent,” though that too, now that you mention it). But it seems I am slowly BUT SURELY giving up my long-held need to appear to have it together. It was taking too much energy, which was, of course, entirely fear-based.

      I’ve grown weary and leery of holding up masks or trying to be seen (or not seen) as this or that. I am that I am. And yes, I am one lucky girl, on so many fronts that it’s high time — with a few cosmetic exceptions — to stop fussing about how I show up. I color my hair, I wear makeup — and I fall. But I fall well! Maybe as Dagmar suggests there is no “message,” simply another opportunity to show up as my real and vulnerable human self, and maybe that’s enough! 

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