Better Off Said

I don’t even remember what the conversation was about. But at some point this past week, as we sat talking over our morning coffee, something that had previously been unsaid, was shared. Those few words connected dots that hadn’t made sense. Colored in the outline that my imagination had been attempting to fill, and as is usually the case, the real picture was much less scary than the imagined one.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t monumental, but it mattered. It wasn’t a big reveal, but a small revelation. It wasn’t a big deal, but it was the real deal.

How often, I wonder, do we keep things to ourselves that would be better off shared? Hold back for fear of what will happen if we actually disclose what we’ve kept to ourselves?

Maybe that’s some of the good, hard work of relationships. Especially our closest ones. To disclose what has previously been held back. To say what’s been waiting to be said. To share our thought bubbles, as scary as that might sound on a good day, much less a rough one.

Yes, some things are better left unsaid. But what about the ones that aren’t?

Dancing In The Dark

We take a nightly walk down our road before crawling into bed, and the sky never disappoints.

Pitch black and heavy with clouds, it is a reminder that we rarely, if ever, see the whole picture. That our view is always obscured by our own experience.

A sky filled with stars lulls us into believing that we do see the whole picture. So captivated by their light, we forget that the stars we are looking at may no longer exist.

And occasionally we are treated to the biggest news of all. That it all belongs. The darkness and the light. Dance partners, both are necessary, and only made visible because of the other.

These are difficult times. Perhaps they have always been, but right now, these are our hard times. Darkness and fear loom over the future. In the world. In the news. In our hearts. And most of us have no idea what to do with all of that fear and all of that darkness.

A walk in the night might be a good start.

Photo: Tom Pierson-the light of my life

Bouncing Off Ideas

What is your idea of marriage?

This is a question posed by a good friend of mine when he is providing pre-marital counseling to a couple. Each person has the opportunity to share their answer out loud with the other. In other words, they take the opportunity to bounce their ideas off of one another before actually getting married.

It’s a brilliant question to ask, and an equally brilliant practice to hone .

Because the truth of the matter is, marriage isn’t just two people coming together. It is also the joining of two ideas about what marriage means. What marriage looks like. Which is all well and good until we encounter something where our ideas don’t match up. Which is where the rubber meets the relationship road.

My hunch is that the healthiest, most resilient marriages, or relationships of any sort for that matter, aren’t those where both people see everything the same way all the time. Rather, over time, they have honed the skills to uncover how they each see things, and then use what they discover to better navigate the road ahead.

After 26 years together, my husband and I are still honing these skills.

We had talked about getting our Christmas tree today. Which for us means tromping out onto our property to find a tree that will have to be cut down eventually anyway because it is in our view corridor.

So.

In my mind, we were going to bundle up, take our time, meander here and there, find the tree, cut it down, drag it back to the house, and set it up. Twinkle lights, a few ornaments, candles on the mantle, and a Christmas movie in the background.

Which was all well and good until Tom came downstairs ready to get out there, cut it down, drag it back to the house, and get back up to his office as quickly as possible. Because we hadn’t bounced our ideas off of each other, we found them butting up against each other instead. Thankfully, we stuck it out as we’ve learned to do, talking it through from both of our angles, and combining my idea with his idea to come up with our idea.

Tom headed back up to his office, and I bundled up and headed outside for a good long walk with Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle, looking over a few of our tree options along the way.

The same thing happens to all of us all the time. We have an idea about something. About what whatever it is looks like. And the other person, our partner, parent, friend, relative, co-worker, teammate, neighbor, manager, service provider, teammate, has an idea too. Which is all well and good until we discover that our ideas don’t match up.

So.

What is your idea of fill-in-the-blank?

Now, go bounce your idea off of whomever it is about whatever it is. And invite them to do the same.

(Shout out to Dane Anthony for the brilliant question and equally brilliant practice.)

Photo by Rodolfo Clix from Pexels

The Guy In The Camo-Hat

We are all one family who have forgotten who we are.

~ Rhonda V. Magee - The Inner Work of Racial Justice

He walked into my favorite local farm store just as I was about to check out with my basket full of produce, birdseed, and farm-fresh eggs. Tall and imposing with a long beard fashioned into what is sometimes referred to a Viking beard, the expression on his face was anything but warm and friendly. He was dressed in khaki hunting pants and a short-sleeve t-shirt, a camo hat pulled low over his eyes. And, he was packing a semi-automatic pistol on his hip. Accompanied by a woman wearing a mask, he had a young German Shepard on a leash. The woman with him was small in stature and, to my eye, seemed timid and submissive, as if she had acquiesced any personal power and agency to him.

I was grateful that I was wearing the mask that I diligently use during these strange and scary COVID-19 times. Thankful that I can do even this simple small thing to protect my fellow citizens, yes, but also grateful that he was unable to see the look on my face—a look that would have let him know that I knew his story and was disgusted by it. Everything about this guy in the camo-hat smacked to me of white supremacy, white nationalism, an unflinching commitment to the least restrictive interpretation of Second Amendment rights, and the relegation of women to their place behind men. I could feel my anger rising up as I considered all the ways in which what this man surely stood for are undermining our country and threatening our democracy. How, with people like him on the rise, can we have a shred of hope for ever achieving “liberty and justice for all”?

Climbing back into our car my thoughts continued to unspool about why people feel the need to wear a gun in public, not to mention a semi-automatic one. What felt like low-level adrenaline coursed through my body as I continued to focus on all the things I imagined when encountering the guy in the camo-hat. This went on all afternoon as we went about our bi-weekly essential activities trip into town.

And then it dawned on me.

I knew nothing about the guy in the camo-hat.

Not his name, the cards life had dealt him, or how he has chosen to play them.

Nothing.

In the time it would have taken him to draw his weapon, I had made up a story about him based on my own stereotypes and biases, and then proceeded to believe every imaginary word. It was the kind of story that separates us from our fellow human beings. The fear-based story of Us vs Them. The weaponized story that is undermining our country and threatening our democracy.

What if his story wasn’t anything like the one I had been telling myself since I first laid eyes on him. What if he was an off-duty policeman whose family had been threatened due to an earlier arrest and conviction? What if he was veteran committed to training therapy dogs for military members who were living with trauma-induced PTSD? What if the woman he was with wore a mask because she had a compromised immune system from treatment for cancer? What if she stayed close to his side because he was the love of her life who had seen her through her illness?

What if?

I can remember the exact spot on the road when this new story made it’s way into my closed and biased heart. There was a perceptible change in my body. Everything softened and opened up. My heart made room for this man I didn’t know. Like me, is he afraid for our country, and if so, why? Like me, does he love his family and friends with a love that runs deep and wide? Like me, has he been battered and bruised by painful life experiences? Like me, does he have knee-jerk reactions to others as a way to protect himself from those he fears?

I may never learn his real story.

It is certainly possible that the story I made up has a loud ring of truth to it. Even if it does, I can only hope that my encounter with the guy in the camo-hat will help me remember what so many of us seem to have forgotten. We are family, and we belong to each other. Which is why, tomorrow when I head out on a nearby logging road for a hike, I will be sure and wear my favorite hat to help me remember.

We are family.

We belong to each other.

A Better Drift

None of us sees the world in exactly the same way, and the needs that we each have are as different as we are from one another. Understanding this, and knowing what to do about it, is the good, and hard work of human relationships. Especially with those we care about the most.

It seems to be in our nature to give love and respect to others in the ways in which we want to receive them ourselves. To express our needs and wants in the language and timing that works for us. And here’s the clincher—we expect others to know what we want and need from them without having to tell them. None of these are good ideas. I know this because I’ve tried them for years with the same results. Hurt feelings, disappointment, resentment, loneliness, frustration, anger…I could keep going but you probably catch my drift. Maybe you share some version of the same drift too.

If we don’t want the same old same old., we have to try something new.

Rather than expecting others to know what we need and how to love us well, let’s tell them Specifically.

Rather than guessing what others need and how to love them well, let’s ask them. Specifically.

With practice we just might find ourselves catching a new and better drift.

Lost In Translation

A sign of wisdom is not believing everything you think. A sign of emotional intelligence is not internalizing everything you feel. Thoughts and emotions are possibilities to entertain, not certainties to take for granted. Question them before you accept them.

~ Adam Grant

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Have you ever had the experience of listening to another person, usually someone close to you, and hearing one thing only to find out that they were saying something completely different?

Me too.

All.

The.

Time.

It’s like we have a private internal app that converts what someone else says into a different language entirely. A language that we are so familiar with that we don’t think to question it. We simply believe that what we heard is what they meant to say. They meant to judge us, criticize us, correct us, or hurt our feelings, and then we respond accordingly by reacting, defending, retreating, or any number of personal protective mechanisms. At that point, their internal translation app (because we all have one) kicks into gear and converts our response into their internal language. In other words, no pun intended, a lot can get lost in translation.

It’s a crazy, self-perpetuated, vicious cycle that can only be stopped when we are willing to consider that what we heard isn’t necessarily what they said, and then have the courage to go find out.

Photo: Pexels.com

The Backstory

Lately I’ve been catching myself making assumptions about other people. Looking through the lens of how I see the world, I make my mind up about how they see the world, and proceed accordingly. I’m realizing that I’m missing something important: the backstory

According to wikipedia, the backstory as a literary device provides the background leading up to the present plot. In acting is is the behind the scenes history of a character to help the actor better understand the role they are playing.

Every one of us has a backstory. Experiences that shape who we are today. Personal histories that influence what we believe, what we value, and how we behave.

Before jumping to conclusions about one another, let’s remember that there is always a backstory. And until we know what it is, we don’t have the whole story.

Photo: Juan Pablo Serrano Arenas on Pexels

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Deadlines

It’s true that there are real deadlines. As of April 15th our taxes must be filed or we need to request an extension. Ballots have to be dropped off or mailed by a certain time on election day. Credit card payments need to be made by the due date or interest is incurred. The football must be snapped within 40 seconds of the start of the play clock or it will result in a delay of game penalty. Some work deadlines must be met or there will be serious consequences.

It’s also true that there are imaginary deadlines. They are self imposed. We arbitrarily decide what has to be done by when as if there weren’t any other options. Earlier this week I had scheduled today as a “must prepare for some upcoming work” day. Nobody else thinks it has to be done today, and to be honest, nobody else will care when it is done as long as I’m prepared for the work by the time I do it. As it turns out, today is not the day to dive into that preparation. There are other things more pressing, and simple loose ends that once taken care of, will free up more mental, emotional, and creative space to not just prepare, but to prepare well. With the click of the mouse I moved the task out to another day on my calendar, and the pressure to just do it to get it done evaporated.

Let’s take a look at our calendars and do a fact check on our deadlines.

Are they real?

Or imaginary?

Photo by Mike from Pexels

This? Or That?

Did you have the time you wanted? I asked.

Not exactly…but it was good. She answered.

What an inspiring answer to my question.

Summer is a time of setting expectations for how things will be, good, and bad. Road trips, family reunions, summer vacations and staycations, obligatory visits, home improvement projects. But it isn’t just summer. Anytime of year we look ahead and expect, imagine, hope, dread, or anticipate, that things will happen a certain way. They never do. Not exactly. Sometimes they are just as we expected, sometimes worse than we imagined, and sometimes, more than we ever could have hoped for. It’s just that it never turns out exactly as we expected.

We thought it was going to be this, but we got that.

We imagined it working out like this, but it worked out like that.

We wanted things to go this way, but they ended up going that way.

That’s why I love the response I got to my question, and am inspired to go forward holding my intentions with an open hand. Maybe you will be inspired too.

Photo by Valentin Antonucci from Pexels

The Story vs The Real Scoop

A couple of days ago my husband Tom and I sat down with our calendars to make sure we were on the same page, knew who was doing what when, and make any needed adjustments. Noticing that he was going to be gone for a couple of days, I made a request. Rather than leaving late in the morning as he was planning to do, would be willing to leave several hours earlier, giving me a little more of some much needed time to myself. Could that work for him?

In the past I’ve not always asked in what you might call a gracious manner, which as you might suspect, made him feel a little less than welcome in his own home. Thankfully, I’m finally learning to make my requests in a more loving and respectful way. After thinking about it, he said that he could, and in fact, doing so would give him time to make a much needed run to the dump with the garbage and recycling. It sounded to me like we were on the same page, and that we had a plan that met both of our needs. I walked away from our calendaring session feeling great about our interchange, and looking forward to a couple of days with the house to myself. As much as I love the people I love, including Tom, when I don’t have time away from them, including Tom, I’m not much good to anyone, including Tom, or myself for that matter. As far as I was concerned, things were, as they say, all good.

Until this morning when it was time for him to leave town.

Coming back from a morning walk with Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle, already feeling my inner space opening up, Tom was just finishing loading the back of the red pickup with the recycling, and he didn’t appear to be the happiest of campers. Checking in with him, he wasn’t. He didn’t like the feeling of being asked to leave as soon as possible. That was news to me. The story as I saw it, was that we were both good with our plan, but now that we were in the midst of it, the real scoop was that he wasn’t good with it.

At that point things could have gone from bad to worse, but rather than get defensive, my usual go-to-strategy, I worked to listen without judgement and let him say more. We both stayed in the conversation, and by the time he drove out of the driveway we both felt heard. Because we both felt heard, we also felt connected. Because we felt connected, we now have good fodder for further conversation and better communication going forward.

The moral of the story?

The story isn’t always the real scoop.