Being Bridges

“Do you think faith is a gift or a choice?” asked my friend.

What a great question. One that I didn’t have time to ponder, as the answer showed up immediately on the blackboard of my mind. “It’s both. And practice is the bridge that connects the two.”

Practice is the bridge that spans the mystery that is faith, and upon which we find traction for our convictions, callings, and inklings. The bridge of practice provides a way from here to there without having to know all of the answers. If that’s not faith, I don’t know what is.

Ever since that conversation I’ve been preoccupied with bridges. I see them—and the need for them— everywhere. Over the course of our lifetime we will, time and again, find ourselves on one side of an expanse that feels impossible to cross. We’ll need a bridge

Anyone can be a bridge.

A bridge across which prayers are answered.

A bridge across which someone who is lost can find their way back home.

A bridge that spans a fear too terrifying to cross alone.

A bridge that makes it possible for opposing views to find common ground.

A bridge across which forgiveness travels.

A bridge that makes it possible to leave an old story behind and begin to live into a new one.

A bridge that connects us to them.

Of all the reasons we roam the planet, being a bridge might hover near the top of that list. Why are we here if not to create connections, span gaps, and provide a way where none exists. Like faith, being a bridge is both a gift and a choice, and it is practice that connects the two.

There’s a reason that armies destroy enemy bridges. It is to sever connection.

Let’s not let that happen. Let’s be a bridge.

(Written with gratitude to Caley for asking the beautiful question, because questions can be bridges too.)

Help For Helping

The need for help is endless. Out in the wider world for sure, but also in our own little necks of the woods. The question is when to help and when to, well, not. A simple question with a bit more complex answer.

We’re all wired differently. Some of us are more prone to help when asked. Period. Others of us might not help enough. Both tendencies can get us into trouble.

Natural born helpers can jump in too quickly, robbing others of the opportunity to help themselves. Helping too much or too often leads to resentment. Ours and theirs. Helping no matter what, we sidestep counting the cost until it’s too late and our inner accounts have become depleted. Not a good way to live.

Not-so-prone-to-help folks can hang back until it’s too late. Helping too little or not often enough, we miss the opportunity to make a difference in the lives of those who need our brand of help. Holding back from helping we miss out on the dividends paid on an investment well made. Not a good way to live either.

We’re all here to help each other, just not every time.

We’re all here to help each other, just not simply because we are asked or because we can.

We’re all here to help each other when we can and should, and not when we can’t and shouldn’t.

Learning when to do which is a big help.

Image from Riccardo (Pixels)

Climbing A Mountain Part 3: Asking For Help

Getting up off the ground isn’t as easy as it was 10 years ago. Add a heavy pack to my back and soft snow under my feet, and the only way I’m getting up is with some help. But it was so hard to ask for it. My pride wanted to get in the way. I never want our kids to think I’m getting older. Well, I am. Spoiler alert: We all are.

Asking for help suggested that I didn’t have what took to do what I had to do without help. Which I didn’t, as anyone watching me flail away on my own could see. But when I took the helping hands offered I was back on my feet and ready to keep going.

Self-reliance is a gift and a curse. It tells us to equip ourselves for what life will ask of us, which we should. And, it tricks us into believing that it is all up to us, which it isn’t.

Asking for help can feel like admitting defeat. Which is true if winning is our end game. But how often is winning really the thing? And if it is, maybe we should give that some thought. In the end, we are all here to help one another along the trail, each of us lending a hand and taking a hand.

I help you.

You help me.

And on we go.

Hypothetically Of Course

It’s been a rough couple of years. People are talking about it, posting about it, writing, speaking, and ruminating about it. We may be beginning to emerge from the pandemic, but there is no getting back to the way things were. Those days are gone, which probably isn’t such a bad thing. It’s just that we’re not quite sure who we are anymore. It’s like we’ve been tossed out of the spin cycle without getting rinsed off. All of the residue from these last two years is still on us, and we don’t know what to do with it. So rather than taking the time to clean up our own acts, sometimes we take out our pent up frustrations and persistent fears on others. The chatbot who can’t seem to understand our question, the CS representative who finally answers the phone after we’ve been waiting on hold for two hours, the service provider who informs us that the supplies we need are on backorder, the driver who won’t move out of the fast lane, those holding differing political views than we do, and the person on the other end of the line who, through no fault of their own, cannot, as much as they would like to, give us the answer we want. And then of course, there are always those closer at hand, like, say, the people we love and maybe live with, that get in the line of our not-so-friendly fire.

At least I can, hypothetically of course, find myself in at least one of those scenarios. Can’t you?

But the more I think about it, this doesn’t seem like a new thing. It’s just that the last couple of years have put a finer point on a blunt fact. Whatever we don’t clean up in our own life spills out onto the lives of others. From complete strangers to those nearest and dearest, our unhealed wounds, old stories, undealt with stuff, and unhealthy patterns make their marks on the world around us.

At least I can, hypothetically of course, find myself in at least one of those scenarios. Can’t you?

Now, if we could be our best selves on own, we would. If we could heal our own wounds, we would. If we could write new stories, unravel the tangled webs of our past, or develop healthy patterns on our own, we would. I just know that I’ve never been able to do it without help. I’ve needed the support of trained professionals, as well as those trusted few who allow me to show up as my messiest, messed up self, and who love me enough to listen, and listen, and listen some more. And then to tell me the truth, no matter how inconvenient.

It’s a lifelong process, this becoming our best self. The sooner we begin the better, and, it’s never too late to start. Imagine being able to chuckle at our “conversation” with the chatbot, be grateful when our call is finally the next in line, recognize that getting supply and demand back on track will take awhile, take a deep breath and go around the slow car in the fast lane, become curious rather than critical about the political views of others, understand that the person who can’t give us the answer we want probably wishes that they could, and, treat the people we love and live with from the very best of ourselves.

At least I can, hypothetically of course, imagine myself in at least one of those scenarios. Can’t you?

Superpowers

We all have at least one superpower.

One of mine is knowing when and how to connect people I love and respect with other people I love and respect. It is pure joy. Nothing to be gained on my part other than knowing that when people connect in the right place at the right time, really cool stuff happens. And I get to be part of the magic. And so do you, every time you exercise your own superpower.

The thing about them, if we’re being honest, is that we can’t take credit for having them. We come with them already baked in. Our task is to discover what they are, and put them to good use for the good of the world within our reach.

Using our superpower, we get to momentarily slip into our superhero suit and save the world just a little bit.

How fun is that?

Super fun!

Superhero: Gracie-the-Chocolate-Labradoodle

The Question Of Help

Most people genuinely want to help others. We love to lend a hand, step in and provide assistance, give support, and do what we can to ease the burdens of others. Not just nice lyrics in a classic song, we really do get by better with a little help from our friends - and family - and sometimes complete strangers for that matter.

However.

There can be a fine line between helping and hindering. When we are too quick to step in and help, we risk hindering someone’s chance to step up. When we automatically react to someone’s hardship, there is a good chance they won’t reflect on what’s actually necessary to address the underlying need.

Sometimes helping out means holding back.

pexels.com

Customer Service

After many years working for Nordstrom, an organization known for its excellence in customer service, the bar I set when it comes to responding to my needs when I am the customer is admittedly high, and surprisingly simple.

Care about me. Help me.

Recently I’ve had two experiences in stark contrast to one another.

LOW BAR

In the Costco checkout line (and for the record, I love Costco) I asked about an item I hadn’t been able to find. 

Me: Do you know if you have an capers? 

Employee: I have no idea what those are. 

My thought bubble: That’s not what I asked. 

Me: Do you think someone could find out for me? 

The other employee at the register overheard the conversation and asked her to go see if she could find out if there were any capers in stock, at which point she replied: I have no idea what those are.  

My thought bubble: That’s not what she asked either. 

Finally, yet another employee came over and informed me that they were out of stock, but were anticipating new ones that would, of course, be located in the meat department. 

My thought bubble: None of you have any idea what a caper is, do you.

The experience could have so easily been raised to a higher bar.  

Me: Do you know if you have any capers? 

Employee: I have no idea what those are, but want to know, and would be happy to go find out if we have any. 

HIGH BAR 

I’ve spent approximately 5 hours, with five different customer service agents on the phone with Apple Care to resolve an issue on my iMac. 

Me: I’m having a problem with the Message function on my Mac. I can receive messages but not send them. 

Employee: I’m so sorry for the problem. Let’s take a look and get this resolved for you as quickly as we can.  

My thought bubble: I love Apple Care 

The problem isn’t resolved yet, and has been escalated through the ranks, now landing with the engineering team, but there is no doubt that they care and will stick with me until it is resolved.  

The experience could have so easily been dropped to a lower bar. 

Me: I’m having a problem with the Message function on my Mac. I can receive messages but not send them. 

 Employee: We have online resources. Have you tried those?

When it comes right down to it, in one way or another we are all in the customer service business, because we are all here to care about each other, and help each other. Or at least we should be. 

 In case you’re interested...https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caper

Illustration by Otto Wilhelm Thomé and displayed on Wikipedia 

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.