Hitting The Reset Button

“It’s never too late to be what you might have been.”

~ George Elliot

After a year of slow recovery and rehabbing from an injury, and taking my eye off the nutrition ball a little too much, it is time to reclaim the good habits that I’ve come to know support the kind of health, wellness, energy, and body I need for the life I want to live.

Today I hit the reset button.

Today I started the Whole30.

According to the founders, it is a “short-term nutrition reset, designed to help you put an end to unhealthy cravings and habits, restore a healthy metabolism, heal your digestive tract, and balance your immune system.”

In a nutshell, it means eliminating sugar of any kind, alcohol, grains, legumes, dairy, and all additives. I can, however, have coffee, which is the only thing that makes it possible. It may not work for everyone, and I’m not advocating it for anyone else, but it works for me.

Hitting the reset button is always an option, and not just for our health, but for our finances, marriages, friendships, family, education, work, mental, emotional, and spiritual health, not to mention our closets and garages.

If we’re honest with ourselves, we know when we’ve gotten off track, become immobilized, or have lost our way, and the sooner we hit the reset button, the sooner we can get on with living the life we want. The one we are called to live. The one that is authentic and wholehearted. The one that connects how we live with who we are at our core.

It’s never too late to hit the reset button.

Scar Tissue

“I have this thing about being a preacher who reveals things about herself, and it’s that I always try to preach from my scars and not my wounds.”

~ Nadia Bolz-Weber

There isn’t one of us who hasn’t been physically wounded. Thankfully, our bodies are designed to heal.

There isn’t one of us who hasn’t been emotionally wounded. Thankfully, our hearts are designed to heal too.

Healing of any sort however, requires time, attention, and sometimes professional help, but if healing is what we want, we have to do what it takes. When we ignore the injury, it can fester, infecting other tissue, or, other people, and everything is fair game. Our work, our interactions with everyone from loved ones to complete strangers, our mindset, outlook on the world, and opportunities, our finances, our pets, and our physical, emotional, and spiritual health. It may take energy to heal, but it is nothing compared to the energy required to ignore the pain and try to keep it under wraps. Trust me on this one.

Reflecting on Nadia Bolz-Weber’s words above I am convinced that every one of us can switch out the word ‘pastor’ for any word that applies to us, our work in the world, and our relationships with others. For me, it might look like this… “I have this thing about being a - wife, mother, grandmother, friend, sister, coach, writer, speaker, facilitator - who reveals things about herself, and it’s that I always try to - love, communicate, support, relate, speak, write, lead - from my scars and not my wounds.”

Recently, I’ve uncovered a wound that is calling for my attention, and as a new year approaches, I am determined to do the work it will take to transform that wound into a scar. It will take time and attention, but since healing is what I want, I will do what it takes.

In the words of Richard Rohr, If we do not transform our pain, we will most assuredly transmit it."

A Stake In The Ground

There is something about making a commitment out loud.

At the end of a workshop or retreat, I ask people to reflect on what they’ve discovered or learned as a result of our work together, and to write down, specifically, what commitments they are willing to make. What are their personal marching orders going forward? At this point I also advise them that as a way of closing out the time together, each person will have the chance to share one of their commitments, out loud, with the rest of the group. The caveat being that whatever they share, they are giving everyone in the room permission to support them in their efforts, check in on them, and help them stay accountable to their word.

It is inspiring to watch them think deeply and trust the information that surfaces for them. The words they write down are an important step in keeping them close to their intentions once they leave the room. But there is something powerful that happens when they give voice to their commitments. By speaking them out loud, they are putting a stake in the ground for others to see, and once it’s out there…well…it’s out there.

Recently I decided it was time to drive a stake in the ground myself. I’ve lived with tinnitus for a number of years now, and lately it has been ramping up even more. I’d give up almost anything to experience actual silence. Except coffee. I love coffee almost more than life, and my morning cup is about as sacred a ritual as any I can imagine. I go to bed at night in anticipation of that first cup the next morning. I. Love. Coffee.

However, as it turns out, coffee is one of the culprits that, for some people, can contribute significantly to this ringing I live with day and night.

I’ve known that fact for a while now.

I’ve inwardly made a commitment to think about eliminating it.

I’ve inwardly made a commitment to eliminate it…someday.

I’ve even written that commitment down.

But until a few days ago, that’s all it was. Some words written down on a page. That was the morning that I turned to my husband, hands wrapped around my favorite coffee cup, and said, out loud, Starting tomorrow, I am going to stop drinking coffee long enough to see if it makes a difference.

Tomorrow will be day number three.

My stake is in the ground.

Any stakes to put into the ground?

Just remember. Once it’s out there…well…it’s out there.

What They Teach Us

As I write this, my 2 1/2 year old grand boy is sleeping. On this gorgeous quiet Sunday, we’ve spent the day just hanging together, and in just a few short hours, here is what I’ve already learned from him.

The importance of play.

No matter what our age, play is good for almost everything that ails us. It reminds us to take life and ourselves a little less seriously.

The importance of finding something we love so much that we can’t help but practice it.

For him, that is golf. Nothing makes him happier than some time with his driver, a few golf balls, and a patch of grass.

The importance of picking up after ourselves.

Whether that means our toys or our clothes, our mistakes or our hurtful words, cleaning things up and clearing the air is our work to do.

The importance of nourishment.

Whether a tiny human or those of us further down the trail, we all need food for the journey, and a well balanced diet feeds body, mind, and spirit.

The importance of growth.

Plotting this little human’s growth since his last trip here reminded me that learning and growing never stop. Or at least they don’t have to.

The importance of standing on our own two feet.

We are not meant to live in the shadow of others, but to find our own solid ground from which to cast our own.

The importance of rest.

Life requires a lot, and bringing our best selves to the party can only happen when we build in times of rest.

Speaking of rest, I hear a little voice calling. I can’t wait to find out what else he has to teach me.

Out of the mouth of babes…

Broken Records

Sometimes I know that I sound like a broken record, but then I guess there are some things that are worth repeating. My dad was a broken record.

Remember who you are and what you stand for.

If I heard that once, I heard it several thousand times. And so did everyone else who knew and loved him, and some who didn’t know him and if they did, they probably wouldn’t have loved him. I got tired of hearing it, and there were times I wanted to throw the nearest sharp object at him for saying it. But you know what? It stuck, and those words spoken to me, over me, and around me, have gone a long way toward helping me to become a better version of myself. There are things for which I’ve thrown my dad under the bus, but these words are not one of them. I will alway be on board the bus with him on this one. 

Recently I’ve begun to hear my own broken record. Like my dad’s words, mine are short, not-so-sweet, and to the point.

Do the work.

Simply stated, it means choosing over and over and over again, to do the hard work of becoming your best, most authentic and wholehearted self.

Do the work. 

It means uncovering our wounds (we all have them) and doing what it takes to heal them, and turn them into scars. It means sitting with our pain, anger, grief, and all of the other shadow emotions, and learning from them rather than running from them. It means asking ourselves what we are currently carrying with us that needs to be dealt with and left behind, so as to move into whatever is next with more love, compassion, freedom, and peace. It means admitting when we are wrong, and making amends. It means learning how to apologize and mean it not justify it. It means having the hard conversations and doing the deep listening. Again, and again, and again.

Do the work. 

It means figuring out what makes us tick, and what triggers us. It means taking ownership for everything in our lives. Every. Single. Thing. Not that we are responsible for everything that has happened to us, or for the wrongs committed to us by others, but that we are responsible for what we do with what we’ve got.  

Do the work.

It means finding the professional help to support our efforts. At the risk of sounding like another broken record, we all need professional help to become our best selves. Every. Single. One. Of. Us. Depending on the circumstances, that might mean a therapist, psychiatrist, coach or spiritual director, or some combination thereof.  

I’ve been heartened recently by examples of those doing their work, and heartbroken by examples of others who are not. When we do the work every one around us benefits, and when we don’t, everyone around us pays. Which is why, later today, I am grateful to be meeting with my spiritual director. I know I’m better when I do, and it’s better for everyone around me too. 

Some things are worth repeating. 

Let’s do the work. 

Where The Buck Stops

“Let us not seek to fix the blame for the past. Let us accept our own responsibility for the future.”

` John F. Kennedy

Oh, it is so easy to blame someone else for our troubles. To find fault elsewhere. To see cause that is outside of our own agency. To pass the buck.

When a problem with a relationship arises, it is often easier for me to see what the other person did to create it, than look for what part I might have played. If something doesn’t turn out the way I expected, I’m tempted to turn over every other rock to find the cause except the one laying at my feet. If I don’t get what I thought I paid for, I can be quick to demand a refund and slow to consider that perhaps I didn’t do my homework before pulling out my credit card.

Whether it is an issue in a relationship, a breakdown in communication, a lack of clarity around expectations, or a disappointing result, if I am willing to look closely, I can almost always find what role, no matter how small, I might have played in the way things turned out. When I take ownership for what is mine, there is almost always something I can do to address the situation. When I allow the buck to stop at my desk before moving on, it allows me to look for ways that I can take action to help resolve the conflict, bring closure, clear the air, extend forgiveness, offer an apology, bring clarity, open a door, resolve the problem, or change the outcome.

I’m not saying that others aren’t culpable for their part of the bargain.

They are.

So am I.

Viborg Cathedral - Viborg, Denmark