Not So Quick

Speed of progress is often the measure by which we gauge success. How quickly can we accomplish, produce, create, finish, or achieve the desired results? While there’s no disputing that sometimes things need to be done quickly, it isn’t always the best measure of success in the grand scheme of things. An equally valuable indication, if not more so in many cases, is continued movement in the right direction. Whether talking about building a better relationship, writing a book, building a career, or crafting a meaningful life, steady progress creates the traction necessary to succeed in any endeavor that matters.

In a world that seems to value quickness over quality it can be hard to take the long view. But then again, Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Photo by khalid ait sayh from Pexels

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

Time Traveling

The further I go in life, the more I am learning to trust that timing usually works out for the best. Suddenly an appointment gets cancelled or a meeting is called at the last minute, and I realize that the timing is better than originally planned. A calendar that was too full opens up, and days that were heavy with commitments lighten up. Conversely, when space opens up on my calendar it makes the room needed for the unexpected opportunity, the urgent need, or the last minute change.

When we hold on to our time with the death-grip of control, it becomes almost impossible to encounter what life brings our way with a sense of curiosity, grace, and adventure.

Instead of controlling time, I am practicing cooperating with it. It’s actually pretty fun…most of the time.

Photo by Stanislav Kondratiev from Pexels

Owning It

The Seattle Seahawks lost yesterday.

That was then.

This is now.

Today, the day after the game, is known as Tell-The Truth-Monday. As I understand it, this is the time when everyone involved in the game, including the coaches, tells the truth about what happened in the game, takes ownership for what went well (not enough) and for what did not. It is how they individually and collectively take stock, gather and apply the lessons learned, and move forward. This commitment to the practice of taking ownership doesn’t just happen after a loss, it happens after every game, win or lose. It’s how they get better.

Becoming our best selves requires the same commitment to the practice of setting time aside to tell the truth about what is happening in our lives, and take ownership for what is going well, and, for what is not. It’s not only how the Seahawks get better, it’s how we get better too.

The Courage To Care

It can be hard to have the courage to take care of ourselves. To be willing to say no to requests, risk disappointing others, making changes that others may not like, and standing firm in doing for ourselves what we know we need to do. When we ignore our own needs in order to take care of those of others it eventually catches up with us, sometimes in ways from which it is difficult to recover.

One of the most loving things we can do for the others in our lives, especially those to whom we are the closest, is to love ourselves well. It bears repeating that taking care of ourselves isn’t about being self-centered, it’s about living from a centered self.

Photo: pixels.com

Wisdom From The Abbey

“The business of life is the acquisition of memories. In the end, that’s all there is.”

Mr. Carson: Butler of Downton Abbey

The choices we make today are creating the memories we will remember tomorrow.

Dealing With It

After years of leading workshops and retreats and working with coaching clients, there is almost always this moment when the energy changes. Something I’ve said strikes a nerve, gets to the point, or sheds a light on something true. People perk up and listen, pick up a pen, and begin writing. Yesterday, in a workshop on leading teams, that moment came when I talked about how un-dealt with issues can undermine team strength, erode trust, and cause communication breakdowns. In the room heads nodded as they brought to mind what those unresolved issues and avoided conversations might be in their own teams.

We didn’t talk about the specifics, because that is their work to do in the days ahead, and because I usually teach what I need to hear too, I work to be right there with them. To apply what I am saying to them to my own life. It is safe to say that most of us don’t wake up and hope to have a difficult conversation, face avoided issues, and ask hard questions. It is equally safe to say that the longer we put such things off, the harder they are to face.

Whether talking about an organization, work team, friendship, marriage, NFL team, or a family, developing the skills to address issues as they arise, work through things rather than skirt around them, and keep our “accounts” current, is hard work, but oh such good work. It pays off every time we have the courage to do it, and it costs us every time we don’t.

A Second Language

The longer we wait to learn a new language, the harder it is to learn. It’s possible. Just harder.

As a girl who tends to make her mind up quickly, have an opinion on how things should be done, and who is pretty sure she is right most of the time, especially when she’s wrong, I have mastered the language I’m calling Certainty. It flows off my tongue like water. To say that I’m fluent in it is an understatement, as anyone who knows and loves me anyway can attest.

However, when it comes to the language I’m calling Curiosity, I am anything but fluent. But I want to be. To that end, I am practicing a few simple phrases as often as I can, knowing that repetition and practice are the keys to mastery.

I could be wrong about that.

You could be right about that.

Those two statements still catch in my throat, and most likely catch those who hear them off guard, but the more I say them, the more easily they come. Every day provides me with ample opportunity to practice, and for that I am grateful (mostly). I’ve spent years mastering the language of Certainty, and it is my hope that with practice, I will be able to claim Curiosity as a second language in which I am fluent.

What language would you like to learn?

Everything

“We do not think ourselves into new ways of living.

We live ourselves into new ways of thinking.”

― Richard Rohr

Our lives are made up of so many bits and pieces that it is easy to lose sight of the wholeness of it all. Not the perfection of it all, but the wholeness that is our life. Like a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle, each little piece contains a small fragment of the image that when put together will make the whole picture.

We, or at least I, get sidetracked by the small bits, forgetting that they are necessary to the whole. And in forgetting that they are necessary to the whole I let myself get swept up in frustration at what I’m not getting to, seeing things as interruptions to my day rather than integral to my day.

I forget that it all matters. I forget that the task at hand, the person on the other end of the phone, and the unexpected occurrence are all parts of the larger picture. They are all opportunities to show up fully and bring the best of myself to what, in that moment, is mine to do.

I forget that every emotion matters. I forget that there is as much to learn from the visitation of the hard emotions, the dark and painful ones, as there is from the gentle, shimmering, and delightful ones. That every one that comes knocking at my door has, as Rumi writes in The Guesthouse, been sent as a guide from beyond.

I forget that as Franciscan priest, author, and spiritual teacher Richard Rohr believes, everything belongs. Think about that for a moment. Everything belongs. Everything belongs. Everything belongs.

Everything.

What if we began to see everything that shows up at our doorstep as an invitation to become more of who we are meant to be?

What if we began to actually live into the truth that everything belongs.

It might just change everything.

Photo: pexels.com

With gratitude to Dane Anthony

Soaking It All In

On a whim last Sunday we took a detour on our way home from a weekend of hiking and camping. The potential of a long soak in hot mineral waters and a 30 minute linen wrap in the historic bathhouse at the Carson Hot Springs Resort sounded simply too good to pass up. Taking a chance that they would have tubs available for us we turned off the highway, and within a half an hour I was submerged in steaming hot water with a cold wash cloth on my head.

Not always one to be present to the moment, I made the choice, over and over again, to return to the sensation of the hot water on my skin, the cool touch of the wash cloth on my forehead, and the heat soaking into muscles that had worked hard to carry me safely up to the edge of the Mount St. Helens crater and back again. By the time my soak was done, I found myself squarely situated in the present moment. Thoughts about the past and any concerns about the coming week seemed to have drained away along with the water in the tub.

From the soak I headed into the quiet room lined with cots and covered with fresh linen sheets, found the one that was mine, and lay down. The sweet attendant asked what kind of wrap I preferred: tight, medium, or loose? I went with medium, opted for another cool cloth on my forehead, and a towel wrap over my head. For thirty minutes I didn’t even have to work at being present. There was no where else I wanted, or needed to be.

Almost asleep when my time was up I stood and slowly made my way toward the showers and couldn’t help but notice one of the other women in the room. Like me, she had come from a soak and was laying on her cot wrapped in a linen sheet. She didn’t however seem to be in the room at all, mesmerized as she was by her cell-phone. Watching as she clicked and scrolled and swiped, I couldn’t help but think about all of the times that I am anywhere but where I am. If not glued to my phone, then following the rabbit trails of thoughts, diving into one hole after another.

Granted, not every moment is a linen wrap after a hot soak, but the present moment is where we are meant to be. It is the place we are called to show up as fully and whole-heartedly as we can, over and over again. It takes practice, and some days it comes easier than others, but I hope to remember the contrast between those minutes in the tub and on that table, and all the times I find myself lost in the past or projecting myself into the future.

The only way to be squarely where we are is to choose, over and over again, to submerge ourselves in the present moment, soak it in and get completely wrapped up in it.