All In Good Time

For as long as the weather holds, coffee happens in the field in front of our home. This morning the mountain was out in all of her glory. It was 37 degrees, which meant an extra layer, a wool beanie, and a buffalo plaid, wool, fleece lined blanket. I was taking notes to get ready for my upcoming conversation with my spiritual director, Dane, which meant capturing the various wonderings going on in my head and heart. It’s always a meandering list, often times so random that I can’t imagine how one thing connects to another. Yet somehow, in conversation with him, the seemingly disparate threads begin to weave together, connecting this part of my life to that one, this question to that answer, this seeming ending to that possible beginning, this lingering fear to that little swatch of bravery. It is a beautiful and rare gift that he brings to our conversations, helping me stitch my life into the tapestry that is uniquely mine.

Looking at my list, it was indeed a bit of a hodgepodge, made up of a little bit of this and a little bit of that, and it was hard to see if and how it all tied together. But somehow I trusted that it did. Or it would, all in good time.

As I closed my journal, a text came through. A storm from Hurricane Francine had knocked out his internet and we would have to reschedule. While disappointed to miss our conversation today, I knew we would have it eventually, all in good time.

In large part thanks to our work together, I’m learning to hold it all a little more lightly. All, as in all of it. Time, schedules, plans, perspectives, beliefs, and even life itself. Grasping and gripping rarely make things better, and usually worse.

The day I had anticipated became something else. It was bit of a hodgepodge, made up of a little bit of this and a little bit of that. No big progress made in any direction, and it’s hard to see if and how it all ties together. But somehow I trust that it does. Or it will, all in good time.

In gratitude for Dane Anthony, and the gift of working together.

The View

Have you ever put on someone else’s eyeglasses by mistake? Or grabbed an old pair of your own and realized that the lenses through which you see the world today aren’t the same as they were a few years ago?It is so easy to forget that we all see the world differently, and that our own view changes over time as well. When we take the time to understand one another’s perspectives, it goes a long way toward creating better communication, deeper connection, and greater compassion.

Tomer Dahari - Pexels.com

An Invitation To Integration

Recently on a getaway with friends, we spent several hours at the Earth Sanctuary on Whidbey Island, which by the way, is worth a ferry ride just to experience this sacred space. I’ve always been drawn to labyrinths, and the one at the Earth Sanctuary is beautiful in its simplicity, the path formed by vibrant vegetation on either side of the stones leading to the center.

Photo from Trip Advisor

Slowly making my way to the heart of the lush green maze, I lingered as I usually do, before making my way back out.  About to rejoin our little group, I realized that I was pulled to walk it again, this time taking something in to leave as had other pilgrims to this same path before me. Head down, I looked for something that struck the right chord, and found it in a small triad of leaves, all connected to a singular stem which nourished them all, life flowing from one to the other.

For a while now I’ve been trying to reconcile the three leaves of my own life — myself, my relationships, and my work. It often feels as if each is in competition for my time and energy and that tending to one means taking away from the other two. All three areas matter to me. Doing the internal work to become more whole, and caring well for myself matters. Connecting deeply with and supporting those I love matters. Touching the world within my reach with my work matters. How can I choose one over the other without feeling like I’m letting myself, other people, and my work down?

Looking at those three small leaves, a new thought began to emerge. What if they are all the same? What if tending to one informs and enlivens the other two? What if there is no difference? What if I trust that the stem that nourishes my triad of leaves will guide my choices, knowing that it is all one life?

There is something about the process of following a labyrinth path, knowing that the way in is also the way out, knowing that in truth, there is only one way, and it leads us to the center, and then invites us back out again. My three leaves, like the labyrinth, are an invitation to integration, and the realization that mine, like yours, is all one life.

(Gratitude to DA for helping me see the invitation to integration.)