Fruitful

Let’s just put this one to rest—life is hard. No two ways about it. While it isn’t necessarily hard all the time or every day, over the long haul there is plenty of hard to go around.

For example:

The other night Tom and I went to bed at odds with each other. That doesn’t happen very often, but when it does, I hate it. We both do. Neither of us had the capacity to deal with it, which meant we had to sleep with it. As I turned over, and closed my eyes, a thought occurred to me. May it be fruitful.

The next morning on the porch in the cold pre-dawn darkness we sat with our coffee, trying to make sense of what had happened. It was a hard, emotional, and painful conversation. It wasn’t fun. I cried a lot. It took listening on both of our parts, and eventually we found our way back to each other.

The fruit of that hard thing was that we discovered how to be better partners to each other.

Life is harder than ever right now. For me, and for the people I love, and most of the time there isn’t much we can do for one another other than to listen and bear witness to the hard. That, and pray that whatever it is will bear good fruit. That we will lean into the pain, or the fear, or the conflict, or the anxiety, or the anger, or the loneliness, or the grief, and turn it into something fruitful.

Nothing else makes sense.

Because the only thing that makes something hard even harder is when it doesn’t bear fruit.

Waiting Is Hard Work

I’m not much of a rafter. In fact, if I never raft again that would be ok with me.

The few times that I have put on my life jacked, climbed into a raft, and headed down a river, one of the most interesting parts of the experience is when preparing to run another set of rapids. An experienced rafter holds the raft back, paddling and maneuvering against the current to get the boat into the best position to successfully navigate the water ahead. The challenge comes from the constant pull of the current trying to carry the raft forward.

It is a waiting game that takes patience, skill, and hard work. The payoff is that when the time comes to head back into the rapids, those in the raft are ready for the ride.

We are in the waiting game of our lives right now.

The pandemic, which feels like it might never end, is only heating up as the temperatures outside go down. As much as we all long to gather around tables again with friends and families, worship together in our houses of worship, cheer for our favorite teams in packed stadiums, send our children back to school free and unencumbered, frequent our favorite bars and restaurants, join together to honor and celebrate important events, and hug with abandon, we must wait.

The final results of a contentious election, while clear to the many, are being muddied and held up by the few. As much as we’d like to put this all behind us and get on with the hard work of building a country that works for all of us, we must wait.

The economy is at a standstill while our need to support ourselves and our families marches on. As much as we would like for everyone to return to work and get back to business, we must wait.

Waiting can feel like we are doing nothing.

Don’t fall for that notion.

Waiting is not meant to be passive.

Waiting is active, and it takes patience, skill, and hard work.

Like preparing to run the rapids, now is the time to maneuver against the current in order to put ourselves in the best position to navigate the waters ahead. Rapids we’ve never encountered before await us, and now is the time to ready ourselves for the ride.

Learn what can only be learned during this time of waiting.

Discover what can only be discovered during this time of waiting.

Develop the skills that can only be developed during this time of waiting.

When tempted to let go and get back into the flow of life again, let’s hold fast. Let’s do the hard work of waiting. The payoff is that when the time comes to head back into the rapids, we will be ready for the ride.

Changing Lanes

It might be an overstatement to say that feelings drive my car, but not much of one.

If life were a three lane highway, it is safe to say that I live most of mine in the feeling lane. Yes, I can switch lanes and drive in the thinking or doing lanes, but my default is always feelings first, everything else later. This can make for a tumultuous ride, and at no time has this been more evident than this turbulent year.

When my emotions are of what are typically considered the positive ones, my energy is good. I’m motivated to get things done, can find causes for hope even when things look bleak, and am pretty damn good company to those around me. When overtaken by the darker ones, not so much.

There are three lanes for a reason, and I need to make use of all of them. To lean into thinking and step into doing.

We all have our preferred lane, and can easily fall into our typical patterns of thinking, feeling, or doing. When we find ourselves on auto-pilot, maybe it’s time to change lanes.

Dear Us,

Tiring of waiting for the election results to become official, I started composing an open letter to Congress.

It was more like an open postcard.

Dear Elected Officials,

Stop blaming the other side and get to work building a country that works for all of us. And if you won’t do that, shame on you.

But before I can send that postcard to our elected officials, I’d better mail one to myself. And while I’m at it, to every other person who calls this broken country of ours home.

If we don’t stop blaming the other side and get to work building a country that works for all of us, then shame on us.

Because It isn’t just up to them, it’s up to all of us.

Grace Y'all

We are going to need a lot of grace y’all.

One way or another, we are in for a wild ride after this election. And by all accounts, it could get pretty ugly out there. Much of what happens post election is out of our control. The one thing that is completely under our control, the only thing that ever really is, is our response.

Let’s not contribute to the ugliness. Let’s make a pact with ourselves to bring the best of who we are to each other, and to each and every day. Because that is what it’s going to take, no matter how things shake out.

Like I said, we’re going to need a lot of grace.

Let it be so.

Amen.

What Fun?

fun: enjoyment, amusement, or lighthearted pleasure

“So, what are you doing for fun these days?”

That was the question I posed to a friend not too long ago

She didn’t have an immediate answer. To buy herself a little time she turned the tables on me.

“Well, what are you doing for fun these days?”

I didn’t have a ready answer either.

This was not good.

It’s a funny thing about fun.

Just when we need it the most, as in now, it seems the hardest fo find.

We are in for a long haul my friends, and the only way we are going to make it through, and do the hard work required of us, is to find ways to lighten our hearts, lift our spirits, and look for moments of lighthearted pleasure.

Not someday.

Now.

Not when the pandemic is over.

Now.

Not when things change for the better.

Now.

Gracie-the-chocolate labradoodle gets it. She can turn anything into a moment ofenjoyment, amusement, or lighthearted pleasure, especially if there is a ball involved. But if there isn’t, she grabs the nearest stick and races in circles. If there isn’t a stick, she races in circles anyway. Head held high, a twinkle in her eye, she is having a blast right in the middle of this messed up world. She doesn’t wait until all the chores are done, there is a lull in her schedule, the election is over, or there is a vaccine available. She simply sees the possibility of fun all around her and grabs hold of it.

If she can do it, so can we.

So, what you are doing for fun these days?

Photo by Scott Webb from Pexels

What Aren't You Saying?

Imagine what would happen if our thought bubbles were visible to others. It might not be pretty.

Before we heave sighs of relief that they aren’t, let’s consider what might happen if they were. I’m not talking about our snarky thoughts, or the mean spirited, sarcastic words we would never utter out loud, but love to shout behind the closed doors of our mind. I’m talking about the other ones. The thoughts and feelings that we work so hard to keep hidden might be precisely the ones that need to be brought out into the open.

What aren’t you saying?

Whatever it is, it might be what will lead to the real conversation. The one that will result in deeper understanding and closer connection. The one that will help heal wounds, mend fences, develop courage, deepen trust, and strengthen relationships.

What aren’t you saying?

Whatever it is, it might be what needs to be spoken out lout and within our own earshot. The words that will help us separate fact from fiction, loosen fear’s grip, empower us to ask for help, and shed light on our next right steps.

What aren’t you saying?

Whatever it is, it might be exactly what needs to be said. And heard.

(With gratitude to Dane Anthony for showing me the power behind this question)

Photo by Miguel Á. Padriñán from Pexels

With, At, or For?

Last week I made a stop at Target before heading back up the Columbia River Gorge and home. I needed a few groceries, a couple of bottles of wine, paper towels, and for good measure and an alert drive home, a Nitro-Brew With Sweet Cream from the Starbucks on my way out.

They didn’t have any of the groceries I needed, the wine selection was subpar at best, so I consoled myself as I checked out with my paper towels that at least I’d be able to enjoy my caffeinated beverage of choice on the drive home. Except they didn’t serve Nitro-brew at that Starbucks. I might have given the barista a dirty look.

Leaving the parking lot, my Irish-throated Siri told me to turn left, but I was pretty sure he’d gotten his directions mixed up, so I told him in no uncertain terms to shut up. Turning right onto the road I reached into my jeans pocket to grab my Visa card (since I no longer carry a handbag into stores thanks to COVID) and put it back into my wallet. Except it wasn’t there. At the next stop light I frantically checked all of my pockets, the floor of the car, my wallet in case I’d forgotten that I’d already put it away, since forgetting things seems to be my latest new skill.

I thought I was going to explode.

Our credit card was compromised a couple of weeks ago and I’d just spent the better part of a day linking the replacement card to all of the necessary merchants and auto-pay accounts, and the thought of having to do it again was enough to do me in. I screamed at the top of my lungs, pulled a u-turn, yelled at every stop light between me and the Target parking lot, and prayed—well more like yelled at God as if it were Her fault—that by some miracle could I please f-ing find my card on the pavement where I’d parked. Which I didn’t.

Stomping back into Target I had to turn around because I’d forgotten my mask. I stomped back to the car, masked up (I’m a believer) and stomped back inside. Where, in short order, my credit card, which had been turned in by a kindly stranger, was safely in my possession. My little tantrum paid off, it just wore me out.

These days I can get so mad so fast that it makes my head spin. Like a Tesla, I can go from 0-60 in 2.3 seconds, and I never know what is going to set me off. If there were Anger Management Cops handing out tickets, I could wallpaper a room with them.

I’m not the only one either. Almost everyone I know is talking about it too. There are plenty of reasons to be majorly pissed off right now, and it can feel really good to be angry with someone or about something. But it’s exhausting too. Every eruption lets off just enough steam to keep going. Until the next outburst.

In the last conversation with my spiritual director, I told him about all of this anger that seems to come out of nowhere and spill out everywhere. As is his way, he let some silence sit between us before asking “I wonder, Molly, what you are angry for?”

What?

Not angry with.

Not angry at.

Angry for.

And just like that I knew what I was angry for, and what I could do about it.

Anger for is a different kind of animal than that which is with or at.

Anger for doesn’t erupt at, but energizes towards. It motivates us to fight for what we want, not against what we don’t. Rather than explode and cause harm, it exposes what is calling for our help. Anger for shines a light on what is missing, which is the first breadcrumb on the path to finding it.

Anger can get a bad rap. We’re taught to push it down, hold it in, or lock it up. Until we can’t. Which is when we get wrapped around the anger axle and take it out in all the wrong ways for all the wrong reasons.

What are you angry for?

Whatever it is, it’s worth fighting for.

The Tip Of The Iceberg

This morning my throat hurt. Not from a cold or cough, but from screaming during the Seattle Seahawks’ nail biter of a game yesterday. Apparently I needed to scream. Thankfully the game gave me something to scream at, so that I wouldn’t scream at someone.

We are navigating the most challenging times many of us will ever face, and fear runs deep. Often operating below the surface of simply trying to make it through another day safely, and not freak out at the latest headlines, fear is taking an emotional toll on all of us. Cooped up with others, or living with only ourselves for company, that fear often comes out as anger. Not as necessary righteous anger at the injustice, incompetence, and inequality that has been laid bare, but at others who happen to cross our path at the wrong time.

Anger is the tip of fear’s iceberg.

Rather than take it out on one another, let’s look for healthy ways to express our anger, like a slam ball workout, a punching bag, or splitting wood until your arms ache.

Or.

You can tune into the next Seahawks game this coming Sunday at 10AM.

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Getting Around To It

Meditation has been on my mind for a long time now. It is the spiritual practice I am most drawn to, and yet, I never seem to get around to doing it.

This probably has to do with the fact that there hasn’t been a lovely, carefully designed space in our home in which to sit while doing it. Except the only space required to meditate is the one between my ears.

It could also have to do with the fact that I don’t seem to be able to find a consistent time, every day of course, to do it. Except any time of day can work.

Or it might be that the few times I have done it, nothing seemed to happen. Except the benefit of meditation is in the doing whether anything happens or not.

Perhaps it is because it’s difficult to find a time when the house is quiet and I will be uninterrupted. Except mediation happens in the midst of real life, not off at some silent retreat center.

So.

I’m writing this after having finished meditating smack dab in the middle of the day, within earshot of a visiting daughter doing homework with our grandson at the dining room table, the yaps of their little dog Comet, and the footsteps of my husband as he comes in from some outdoor chores. Nothing happened. I just did it.

It is easy to put up obstacles in our own path.

It’s easy to get rid of them too.

Ommmm

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