Givers Of Life

Once a month I have a video call with two individuals who are not only respected colleagues, but also dear friends. It is a call that I look forward to from the moment we end our time together until the next one rolls around. The three of us have worked together in various ways over the years, and while we value and respect one another professionally, it is the personal connection that keeps us coming back for more. Together we’ve created a safe space for courageous thinking, a shelter from our storms, and a shared home for our hearts and hurts.

Every call has a way of infusing more life into my being.

Today was supposed to be our monthly call, and as much as I look forward to it, I almost bowed out of it. After a couple of emotionally packed weeks, I simply felt like I didn’t have the capacity to show up as anything but a worn out mess, and taking anything off of my calendar sounded like a good idea. When I mentioned this to my sister who is here visiting, like any good big sister, she had a word of advice. She reminded me of how life-giving this call always is, and thankfully, like any good little sister, I listened to her.

No matter how I show up at the beginning of the call, I am always better at the end of it, and today was no exception.

The moral of the story?

Make time for life-giving connections, and listen to your big sister.

Peace Out

As it turns out, maintaining inner peace is no piece of cake. After writing yesterday about Choosing Peace, I woke up with the best of intentions. I read in my morning book, Into The Magic Shop by James Doty, learning about how to breathe your body into a state of peaceful calm. After that, I spent some time in meditation, got ready to go the gym, and had our sacred morning hug with my husband. As far as I could tell, I was choosing peace, peace, and more peace.

Then it all went to hell in a hand basket.

Over what kind of laundry detergent to purchase.

My husband at one end of the counter with his list of the most effective products à la Consumer Reports, me on the other end listing out my environmental concerns. It wasn’t one of my finer moments when I accused him of being “fastidious” to a fault, and, I had to add, at the expense of our planet, not to mention our daughters who care about such things.

Peace was out, frustration was in.

As far as I could see in that moment either one cared about the environment, or one did not. Which is precisely where the problem lay; either-or-thinking. Once my feet were firmly planted in needing to be right, it became about winning or losing, and it’s hard to find peace in the midst of a battle.

To be clear, maintaining an inner sense of peace doesn’t mean going along to get along, or acting conciliatory to avoid conflict. But peace is a shelter that can be found in the midst of almost any storm, and thankfully, by the time I got home from the gym, I’d found my way back there.

When we resumed our conversation I discovered, as it turns out, that one can both care about the environment and clean laundry.

Peace out.

✌️

Walking The Refuge

We live near a beautiful wildlife refuge, and we walk it as often as we can.

A combination of oak, pine, and aspen forests, wetlands, and grassy prairies, it offers an ever-changing, always stunning vista as the seasons roll through, and provides habitat for creatures large, small, and everywhere in between.

Photo: Jean Gale

The refuge is a fusion of discovery and quiet familiarity. Discovery because it is always changing, and you never know what you might encounter around the next curve in the trail, or through your binoculars trained across the landscape. Quiet familiarity comes from the well known landmarks, sound of wind in the pines, and the always staggering view of Mt. Adams.

There is a three-mile loop trail that wanders along its edge, with a viewing platform at the midway point from which to catch a possible glimpse of some wildlife.

Walking the refuge is to visit a place of safety, sanctuary, retreat, and shelter.

Walking the refuge is to encounter a fusion of discovery and familiarity.

Walking the refuge is an opportunity to stand on a viewing platform and catch a glimpse of one’s life.

Where is there a refuge for you to walk?