Truth In Advertising

Sometimes a picture says it all.

We were living in Seattle, and my sister and I decided to take our daughters to the mall for a photo with Santa. Can you picture it? Long lines of parents with antsy little ones hyped up on sugar, “Santa” dressed in his well-worn costume, a photographer who’d rather be doing almost anything else, and parents who want to capture the magic of the season in the perfect photo. Good luck with that.

However, when it comes to Christmas and all the pressure to get it exactly right, this picture seems perfect to me, because it tells the real story. The one that makes room for things turning out not at all like we planned, but as things really are.

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

Scheduling Hope

Hope is a condition of the heart in which we live with a sense of confident expectation and anticipation. Yet with all that is on most of our plates, it can be easy to lose touch with any air of expectancy, and live instead gasping for breath due to the pressure of all that is expected of us.

Queue the calendar.

When I am mindful to use it well, my calendar becomes an instrument of hope…

A monthly video call with two dear friends and colleagues, where together we’ve created a safe place in which to engage in courageous and vulnerable thinking.

Sessions with a trainer who is helping me move from rehab of an injury to the renewal of my strength and capacity to do the things that I love.

Coaching sessions with one of my clients who is decidedly all in on our work together, and shows up fully every time we meet.

Time set aside to help our daughter and her family get ready for their move to a new house, smack dab in the middle of the holidays.

FaceTime dates with those I love.

Family coming over the river and through the woods for Christmas.

A massage, a much needed haircut, and a pedicure.

Friends for dinner, and a New Year’s Eve party.

Seattle Seahawks games that could land us in the playoffs.

A candlelight service on Christmas Eve.

As Annie Dillard says, How we spend our days, is, of course, how we spend our lives. By making sure to include in my days that which makes me come alive, I am choosing to live in a state of hopeful anticipation.

A calendar as an instrument of hope?

Who knew?

The Shape of Gratitude

“Gratitude is the way home.”

Brené Brown

Most years, Thanksgiving means a houseful of people, an abundance of cooks in the kitchen, and little ones in the midst of it all. We subscribe to the-more-the-merrier philosophy, and most years we are more than merry.

This year however, it will be just the two of us, and we couldn’t be more thankful. Not because we don’t want everyone gathered here, but because everyone will be gathered exactly where they are supposed to be.

All four of our daughters and their families are celebrating this Thanksgiving in the way that is the very best for them. Rather than disappointment, my heart is filled with gratitude for their hard-earned wisdom to discern what will serve them well. Instead of trying to please us or anyone else, I am thankful that they are courageous enough to please themselves. Rather than sadness at their absence, I am grateful for the abundant love of my marriage.

Gratitude comes in all shapes and sizes, and if we can get let go of our expectations about how things should be, we can grab hold of the goodness in how things actually are.

Not My Shoes

When someone we know goes through something difficult, it can be tempting to assume that how they feel in the midst of it is the same as what we would feel were we in their shoes. But we’re not.

Because we think we know how they are feeling, we assume we know what they need to do. But we don’t.

Years ago when I made the decision to leave my marriage I met with one of the pastors of our church. It was hands-down the hardest decision I’d ever made for a whole host of reasons, not the least of which was the poor light in which the church cast divorce. That being said, I felt certain of my decision, and hopeful for a different future. But sittting in his office I braced myself for  his words, expecting to hear that while he might understand how I was feeling, he needed to help me see the error of my ways  and how I could remedy them. However, after a few quiet moments, he simply said, I know what I am supposed to say, but I haven’t walked in your shoes. How are you feeling today? How can I best help you?

I’ve never forgotten that experience. Rather than burdening me with his expectations, he lightened the load of my experience. When someone is in the midst of the inevitable pain that comes with life, they are most in need of our quiet presence and a few simple words.

 I know what I am supposed to say, but I haven’t walked in your shoes. How are you feeling today? How can I best help you?

With gratitude to DR for knowing that we wore different shoes.

Walk This Way?

At the airport I almost always take the old-fashioned route to the gate. In other words, I walk under my own power rather than hopping on the moving walkway. Part of the reason is admittedly to get a bit more exercise, but it also scratches my itch to exercise my own free will.

It is so easy to fall in line with the crowd, to allow someone, or in this case, something, to dictate how to get from here to there. To take the expected route. To let the majority rule on how we do what. To allow group think to crowd out our own good thoughts.

Three of our daughters were married over the course of four years, and if ever there was a temptation to jump on to a moving walkway, that was it. Thankfully, we didn’t. Once we were done celebrating the news of each engagement, we engaged in a conversation about how to go about planning the wedding. Our way.  We actually talked about how we are the kind of family that walks to the airline gate rather than jumping on the walkway. While both end up at the same destination, the trip from here to there makes all the difference.

The weddings were spectacular, each in their own way, just like our daughters, and getting there was like a choose-your-own-adventure book. Weddings are but one example of the moving walkways that tempt us to jump on and take someone else’s ride. Does everyone need to go to college? Is choosing a life without children really less fulfilling or meaningful? Does your baby need to meet each milestone at the right time in order to be on the right developmental tract? Does patriotism have to mean standing for the anthem? If you don’t buy a house are you destined to miss the American Dream?

The next time we are tempted to step onto the moving walkway, let’s consider what we might miss by not making our own way there.  

Photo: NicoElNino, Shutterstock