Passages from a book to share with you

These are passages that I read in a book called, Shifting Sands by Steve Donoghue. Interwoven into the book is his story about crossing the desert as a young man, and rather than use the usual comparison with climbing mountains, he compares life's experiences to those of crossing a desert. Very interesting. Some of the passages would make more sense if you'd read what came before, but you will get the just and I recommend his book for something different, yet of value, in the self-help dept. Of course, I was thinking of myself, and where I'm at in my life when I chose to highlight these, however, you may find something that touches you wherever you are at, at this moment in your journey.

All the best, your nomad, Steph

Acceptance, even direction can emerge from within if we can just be with ourselves for a while.

The right kind of support helps us be alone. A terminal patient can face the aloneness of death with a friend or even a stranger such as a hospice volunteer by her side.


Often, in the desert of marriage, we lose ourselves in the other and forget who we are.



When we step away from our campfire, things happen that we can't predict or control. That's one of the reasons why we stay in painful situations; at least they're predictable. They're less frightening than the darkness of the desert. We stay in jobs that are boring or stressful. We endure unhappy relationships. We cling to the familiarity of old beliefs and attitudes that we're ready to outgrow. One belief that keeps us close to the campfire is that we need to be prepared for any experience away from the fire. We want to take our flashlight and hunting knife along.

Ducking is a desert technique (from sand storms). Sometimes the ducking we do is around our campfire. The sparks are flying, but we put on our safety goggles and huddle even closer to the familiar pain. Our health is failing, but we ignore the warning signs. Our relationship is loveless, but we don't try to change anything. This type of ducking is called DENIAL. It keeps us close to our campfire when we really should be stepping away. The trick is to know when to duck. The essential question to ask yourself is this: Does ducking this blow allow me to go deeper into my desert or does it stop the journey?


Her misplaced guilt was a classic example of a false border. She had a false belief that blocked her from living the life she desperately wanted. Sherrie could not look her border guard in the eye. She was terrified. She once admitted that the shame of leaving her parents would be worse than dying. And yet, she was dying by staying.

When we consciously cross a desert, we become nomads. Not only do we know how to cross our specific desert, but we've also acquired a deeper understanding of life itself. Pause and reflect on what you've learned. Just as you may have needed a nomad's support, now others can benefit from your hard-won experience and wisdom. Take the time to integrate your experience, weave it into your life, and share it.

Finally, when a desert ends, we need to question the compass heading we've been following and determine if it's still relevant to our lives. If we do not notice that the desert has ended, we risk following a compass heading merely because it's habitual and not because the direction has meaning.

Not only ARE HOT SHOWERS RELAXING, BUT THEY ARE ALSO CLEANSING. That CLEANSING IS IMPORTANT AFTER WE HAVE CROSSED THE DESERT OF GRIEVING FOR A LOVED ONE. If WE DON'T NOTICE WHEN OUR HOT SHOWER HAS ARRIVED, WE MAY BECOME IDENTIFIED WITH OUR GRIEF, AND IT CAN BECOME A PERMANENT PART OF WHO WE ARE. A hot shower helps us to clean away the residue of our sadness and move beyond the desert