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A possibility for positive change, no matter how promising, may conjure visions of upheaval instead of images of opportunity. Whether our current path is comfortable to stride or mined with sharp stones, it is familiar — we feel a basic desire to preserve it. Yet I've also felt my resistance to altering my life dissolve when change beckoned in the form of a single compelling moment. What opens our beings to a deeper level of listening — attracts our awareness to the need for change? What then moves us to act upon what we've realized? And when we do, what sustains our actions until they become a permanent part of our life?

Recently, I attended an event called "The Tapestry of Tuberculosis," hosted by Snohomish County RESULTS, a Washington State chapter of a nonprofit, grassroots advocacy organization committed to creating the political will to end hunger and the worst aspects of poverty. The statistics they presented were interesting, but what moved me was a magical mixture of music, storytelling, tears and laughter. I'll never forget the poignancy and connection I felt to my own humanity as the participants' voices flowed through me.

"Life is a dream and the world awaits..." TB activist and honored guest Romel Lacson sang a song that he had written for his wife while she was in a coma from a rare form of TB, and he waited, hoping against the odds that she would recover. I spent the next two hours — achingly alive — listening to him and others share their stories. I knew no one with TB, and yet it felt personal. I cared because my heart opened as I listened. When it came time to consider a donation, it was that feeling of connection, and a desire to contribute something of myself to their work, that bid me to give. I drove home thinking about all of the things that awaken me to action.

With my desire for change fully engaged, I am ready to act. Sometimes that desire flows directly to deed. Eating healthier food was like that: I was pregnant and thinking about nourishing our unborn child, so trying organic produce seemed natural. Other times, I have to summon my will for a determined climb or take a deep breath to prepare for a fearless leap. Regardless, once I know what I want to change, the doing of it goes best when I consciously set myself up to succeed. Good background information is a key to solid choices; I collect it myself or call a friend who knows what I want to learn. Then I set an achievable goal, and begin. There's a reason the tortoise prevails; the pressure of coming off a sedentary season by telling myself that I won't "get fit" unless I walk five times a week is overwhelming. I'm more apt to feel proud that I laced up my tennis shoes if I set the bar at two or three walks each week.

Once begun, positive change often feels good enough that it continues of its own accord. Organic produce tasted great to me and naturally led to exploring other healthy food choices. Sometimes, though, only conscious daily repetition carries me long enough for a practice to take root. When I decided to get up at 4 a.m. to gain a few hours of uninterrupted silence, it took weeks for that early hour to feel normal. Now, when I "sleep in" until 6 a.m., the extra two hours of shut-eye does nothing to replace the loss of energy I feel from missing my alone time.

In the same way that I prepare myself to take action, it helps if I nurture developing a habit. I keep my mind engaged with research, enlist a partner to join me or secure regular personal support. Proactive health care makes a huge difference in letting a life shift secure a foothold. I've had the great fortune recently to have friends offer sessions in energy balancing and life coaching. Another friend was willing to be a listening partner so I could check in for encouragement. It helps if I stay connected to whatever inspired me in the first place: the event that touched my heart or the person whose life work I found so compelling.

At some point, to take firm hold, the new practice needs to become so much a part of me that I can't imagine not doing it. Our friend Jon, who is a counselor, once told me that the key to change is complete integration: "You're not doing something because it's what you want to do; you're doing it because it's who you are." Comments such as "I've been swimming lately," gradually shift to the assertion that "I am a swimmer." And that results in a new way of being: I feel different, carry myself differently — I am different.

Each step of the journey — inspiration, action, continuation — creates a unique pattern: my own personal mosaic of movement, paved one choice at a time.