Swimming In Circles

“There is so much we can do to render service, to make a difference in the world—no matter how large or small our circle of influence.”

— Stephen Covey

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Just when it seems it can’t get any worse, scarier, more hateful or batshit crazy, it does. An autocratic bully wages an unprovoked war against a neighbor, a Lone Star governor declares war on one of our most vulnerable populations, and the possibility of finding common ground with our fellow citizens seems like a bridge so too far that we can’t imagine ever finding our way across it to one another.

Given the sorry state of our beautiful but broken world, the temptation for many of us is twofold: Doom scroll through our usual sources of information that keep us solidly entrenched behind our ideological bunkers, and/or turn a blind eye to the world and go about our business, hoping it will be better tomorrow. Spoiler alert. It won’t. Not without our help. As in, all of our help.

So, just what in the hell are we supposed to do for heaven’s sake?

Always a fan of any tool that can help us make sense of complex things—like say, the state of the world—I can’t help but think of Stephen Covey and his model of our circles of concern and influence found in The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People.

Here’s my take on his model:

Imagine three concentric circles. Better yet, grab a piece of paper and draw them. (See mine below. Fill in your own accordingly.)

Label the outer, and obviously largest one circle of concern. Herein lie all of those things that keep us awake at night. Issues that try as we might, we can’t change, fix, or eliminate. From unprovoked war to extremism of every ilk, global warming to the inflation rate, hunger to homelessness, and oh-so-many-more, all are worries that are out of our control. It isn’t that they don’t matter. It’s that they are beyond our reach.

Time spent here is foolish.

Name the middle one circle of influence. This is where our rubber meets the world’s road. It’s where who we are and how we show up can have a direct impact on the people, issues, and problems we care about. Covey suggests, and rightly so, that as we invest our time, efforts, and resources here, our circles of influence expand, bringing a little more of the world and our concerns within our reach.

Time spent here is fruitful.

Finally, let’s label that small inner space circle of control. Smack dab in the middle of it all, we get to choose. It is up to us, and only us, to decide who we are and what we care about. In here we equip ourselves—body, mind, and heart—so as to bring the best of who we are to whatever time we have left on the planet. Our greatest chance of making a positive difference “out there” hinges on our willingness to take ourselves on “in here”.

Time spent here is foundational.

Every day we have a choice to make. Will we drown in our circles of concern, or learn to swim in our circles of influence? Our shared future hangs in the balance, and we will sink or swim together.

Plowing It Under

We are in the middle of a major landscaping project, including the installation of a sprinkler system and the addition of actual real grass for the lawn. Last week the landscaping crew arrived and got to work. The very first step was to completely till the soil. Using a powerful rototiller, all of the existing grass, if you could even call it that, was plowed under, and two huge truckloads of compost were added to enrich the soil. Sprinkler pipe has been laid, and soon new grass seed will go in.

What we’ve lived with wasn’t working. It was an eyesore, provided little protection against a wildfire should one breakout, and the health of what little grass we had declined more every year. There was no way of getting something different, something new, something better, without plowing under the old and starting over with something new.

Currently, however, it’s nothing but a mess. A dry, dirty, dusty mess, and other than the promise of something better to come, there is nothing beautiful about it now. In fact, it’s downright ugly. But if all goes as planned, come next spring, we just might have a beautiful healthy new lawn.

It is hard to see anything these days without drawing a parallel to the state of the world, starting with our own country. Metaphors for how we got here, where we need to go, and how to get there abound. Our new lawn project is no exception.

What we’ve lived with as a country isn’t working and hasn’t been working for a long time. It is an eyesore, provides little protection for those who really need it, and the health of what we do have is declining more every year. Our only hope is to do the hard work of plowing under the old, enriching the soil beneath our feet, sowing the seeds of liberty and justice—for all—and then diligently tending what we’ve planted.

To grow our country into something beautiful and worthy of respect will require individual and collective work, and it will be a mess. A dry, dirty, dusty mess, and other than the promise of something better to come, there will be nothing beautiful about it for now. In fact, it will probably be downright ugly. But come sometime in the future, maybe, just maybe, we can grow something beautiful and healthy together.

Time-Frame

A recurring thought as I look ahead to a new year is that it not get away from me before it even starts. It is so very easy to allow my days to be in charge of me rather than me of them. There is a distinct difference between being in charge of, and being in control of. In charge implies that I’ve built a framework within which life can organically play out, making room for both the planned and the unexpected. Control on the other hand, suggests attempting to desperately hold on to all the moving parts. Of which there are too many to count.

Having had the unexpected privilege of building a custom home, I was able to observe first hand the process of framing the house. This wooden framework is later hidden behind the walls within which we live and work and play, but it is what makes all that living and working and playing possible. It creates the shelter within which we live. It defines the different rooms and areas we inhabit, and creates a kind of order within even the most chaotic of days can occur.

Our time can be likened to a kind of home as well. It is the shelter within which we live, and to hold up to all that life brings our way, it too is in need of a solid framework. One that creates and defines distinct spaces for who and what we care about. A structure that both protects us from taking on too much, and enables us to love, help, and heal the world that is within our reach. Which, I believe, is why any of us are on the planet in the first place.

Putting such a framework in place doesn’t happen by chance. First and foremost, it requires our intention. How do we intend to spend our days? What gifts do we intend to offer to the world? What and who matter to us, and based on that, what impact do we intend to make and how will we do that?

Along with intention, creating our framework requires our attention, not only to details, but to the bigger picture as well. How can we bring our attention to who and what are right before us, and yet not lose sight of the larger view? How can we commit ourselves to what is ours to do, and refrain from jumping in to what is not?

As Annie Dillard reminds us, How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. The timeframe of our lives is unknown to us, which is all the more reason to build a solid framework within which to live whatever time we have.



Put-And-Take

We have what we call a “put-and-take” savings account as a way of having ready cash when we need it. Every month we put money in there in order to be prepared for expenditures ahead, and, every month it seems we take some of the money out for said expenses.

Money in.

Money out.

Money in.

Money out.

You might describe it as a savings account with a revolving door. The funds are continually deposited and withdrawn to save for and pay for the cost of living. It strikes me as a good metaphor for our lives. We spend ourselves in the service of what matters to us, and in order to do that we must also continually fund our inner account. What it means to do that is unique to each of us, and can change wildly depending upon our life chapter. What matters is that we do it as best we can, because whether talking about money or our life, we can’t spend what we don’t have.

Photo: Skitterphoto on Pexels

Setting A Time Limit

There are many things I’ve learned from my good friend Mark Christensen, the mastermind behind and founder of the Learning Point Group, a full-service consulting firm that focuses on leadership and supervisory development, as well as workforce learning.

One of the simplest and most useful things I’ve learned from Mark is the practice of setting a time limit on something that needs to be done. Over our years together there have been times when we’ve had to complete a project, solve a problem or come to a decision. In those situations he would often say something to the effect of, “We’ve got twenty minutes to think this through and come to a decision.” Or, “We can commit the next four hours to this, and then we’ll need to move on.” It wasn’t an effort to cut corners, but rather an understanding of the value of time, and a belief in our ability to accomplish something good in the time allotted.

It is easy to let something take more time than it needs to. Or to put something off because we can’t commit as much time as we would like to our effort.

Today I had the chance to put this good practice to good use. I’m on the hook, in the best possible way, to give a reflection (aka: sermon) at our church in a couple of weeks. There are not a lot of days with much open space between now and then, so I decided to channel my good friend. I sat down at the computer and said, out loud in my best Mark impression to make it official, “You have two hours to pull a solid draft of your message together.”, and then proceeded to get it done.

When something is looming large on your mental horizon, consider channeling Mark. Set a time limit and get to work. You'll be amazed at what you can accomplish!

Photo by Mike from Pexels

Stacking The Firewood

Our yearly supply of firewood just got delivered. Two-and-a-half cords of beautiful dry wood landed on our driveway, ready to be stacked under cover for use in the coming winter months. One of my favorite chores every year is to work together with Tom to stack the wood. Piece by piece the pile that sits in chaotic disorder turns into neatly stacked rows, and we are ready for winter once again. While we are not dependent on it to heat our home, it is an integral part of how we live, and we count on it to fuel life under our roof.

This delivery and stacking of the firewood is an annual occurrence, and turning that jumbled pile into orderly rows is a reminder that our lives unfold in much the same way. Something gets dumped into our lives, and suddenly we find ourselves in disarray. Like the firewood, it is ours to figure out how to put into order what has landed on our doorstep.

As hard as it is to have the unexpected show up, if we treat it like a load of firewood, and piece by piece put it into order, It can become an integral part of who we are, and fuel the lives we are here to live.

The Days Of Our Lives

How we spend our days, is, of course, how we spend our lives.

Annie Dillard

I have a love-hate relationship with time. I love that I have it and am grateful for every moment that is mine. I hate how hard it is to corral it, and to create a framework that enables me to spend those moments in meaningful ways.

There is no question that time is one of the most valuable resources entrusted to us, and like any other asset at our disposal, it is about so much more than mere management. It is about stewardship.

What will we do with the time we have?

It seems like a question worthy of some serious consideration, and today was my day to consider.

Taking different colored sticky notes, I created four categories, and the endeavors and activities that fall under each. Putting them up in separated columns on the wall, I began moving the pieces around to reflect my priorities. It wasn’t an exercise in creating a longterm plan. I was building a platform for creating a life.

When the picture felt complete, I began playing around with the calendar function shared on all of my devices. I use iCal exclusively for organizing my days, and so assigned a different color to each category so that my calendar visually mirrored the sticky notes on the wall.

While providing ample time for each category, I also built in margins. Times that provide a buffer and build in a sense of spaciousness. Looking at this newly emerging framework, I was reminded that just because there is open space on my calendar doesn’t mean I need to fill it. I began to get a glimpse of how knowing what matters will help me know what to do when, and make more clear what is mine to do. And, what is not. The further along in the process, the more I could see how I can better connect who I am at my core with how I live out in the world.

It’s still a work in progress, and hopefully will be until I run out of the moments that are mine to live. I can expect that for the rest of my days the unanticipated, good, bad, and otherwise, will show up and blow a carefully planned day out of the water, because time is meant to be fluid, not rigid.

Annie Dillard is right.

How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.

Which means, of course, that to be good stewards of our lives, we must first become good stewards of our days.

In case you’re wondering, my categories were: Molly; People; Vocation; Everything Else. In that order.

What are yours?

Paris Clock Photo: Tom Pierson

Sunday School

God saw everything that God had made, and indeed, it was very good.

Genesis 1:31 

In the biblical story, the world was created a day at a time, each day bringing more and more of the world into being. At the end of the day, the great Creator looked out over that which had been made and saw that it was good.

On the sixth day, in which all living creatures that dwell on the earth were brought forth, God went one step further and created humankind in God’s own image, giving to us stewardship of all that had been created. At the end of that day, the great Creator didn’t simply call what had been made good…but very good.

On the seventh day, there was no more to do. The Creator’s work was finished and that day was declared a day of rest. A holy day of rest.

Made in the image of the Creator, when we choose to live as a reflection of that from which we came, to be good stewards of all that has been entrusted to us, at the end of the day we  will be able to look out over what we have done, and see that it is good.

Every now and then, we can even see that is very good.

And when we’ve given all we have to that which is ours to do, we can take time to rest, knowing that to rest is  holy.

Amen.

Let it be so.

Stewardship

A month before Tom retired this past June, we booked an Airbnb for three days at the Oregon Coast for what we came to call our Pre-Retirement Summit. The first morning we pulled our chairs out onto the deck, and French Press coffee in hand, settled in to capture our individual and shared vision for our future. It was time to chart a new course.

Summit: Day One

About midway through that first day, looking back over what we’d heard from one another, It became clear that what we were really talking about was stewardship. In the time we have left on the planet, how do we want to care for and make meaningful use of who we are, what we have to offer, and the various resources at our disposal? It seems to me a good question to ask periodically at any point in life, and for us it was a great exercise, as it always is, to carve out time to look at the bigger picture.

As this new year begins, we are working to be mindful of the priorities established and the commitments made at our little beach getaway, but it is hard work. It would be much easier to just allow the days to unfold as they will, do what is right in front of us, and allow being productive to substitute for being purposeful. But that is not stewardship, which is the only thing that will help us stay our course.

Beach Sunset

Front Loading

Last year got away from me.

Before I knew it, I was chasing after the days, and never seemed able to catch up. I felt perennially behind, and making time for who and what mattered, including time for myself, felt always just beyond my reach. It isn’t a way I’d choose to live, and yet chosen it I had.

Not this year.

In order to do it differently, the idea of front loading comes to mind. To front load an enterprise is to commit a large portion of energy and resources at the beginning in order to set that enterprise up for success.

January is my month to front load the enterprise that is 2019.

• To look out over the year and build in time for who and what matters, including time for myself.

• To look out over the year and build in margins and open space.

• To lay the foundation for the work I will offer in the world this year.

• To identify the filters through which I will run my decisions.

• To practice the discipline of taking a birds eye view of my calendar.

• To remember that just because there’s nothing scheduled doesn’t mean that time is available.

• To take time at the beginning of the year to envision what it will mean to end it well.

The amount time I have in this new year won’t change.

How I steward it can.