Redemption

Redemption is always possible. As long as we draw breath, there remains the opportunity to turn things around, even if only in our own hearts. To do things differently. To be who we want to be in the midst of our circumstances, no matter how fraught or difficult they may be. The ball is always in our court, regardless of what happens on the other side of the net.

Redemption doesn’t always happen the way we hope it will. The other person may not seize the chance to turn things around. They may continue in their same vein, and to chart their same course. The ball is always in their court too. But what they do with it isn’t up to us.

Redemption can still happen even if we are the only ones showing up, and bringing the best of ourselves to the worst of situations. Because when all is said and done, sometimes knowing that we’ve done all we can with what we’ve got to work with is as redemptive as it gets.

Redemption is always possible. Even if we are the only ones being redeemed.

Being Brave

As I write this today at Rancho La Puerta, our first workshop has finished and I am once again reminded of the courage we are asking people to find in order to answer the questions we pose. Anytime we choose to listen to our inner wisdom, we are entering territory that is both sacred and scary, standing on ground that feels both holy and shaky. As Brene Brown reminds us, any act of courage can only happen when we are also willing to be vulnerable. That is what I witnessed again today as those in our workshop listened generously to themselves, trusted what they heard, and found their way to possible next right steps. While bringing the time together to a close, I shared a story from  my last trip here this past July when my 33 year old daughter Lauren joined me.

During the week she not only enjoyed the beauty of this place and some wonderful spa treatments, she also attended my workshops. It was obvious watching her, that she had decided to show up fully for herself and go all in. She listened to her voice and captured what she heard. The night after that first workshop, I returned to our villa to find her happily reading in bed. Mom, you have my journal from the workshop in your pack pack, right? Wrong. Digging through everything in there, twice, there was no journal to be found. Standing in her doorway, I watched as her face crumpled into tears as she realized that the words she had bravely written, but that were for her eyes only, had been lost somewhere in the Ranch. She felt exposed and betrayed, as she pulled the covers over her head and said, I get brave and choose to write about really fragile and private things that I’ve been too afraid to think about till now, and look what happens. 

It was suddenly clear to me what we needed to do. I firmly told her to get up, get dressed, and come with me. Resistant for a minute, she chose to trust me and we were soon walking through the darkness back to the room where the workshop had been held. A Ranch employee was cleaning up the room, and I asked if we could look through the box of unused journals that had been picked up after my session. Lauren began to sort through the stack, pretty certain hers wouldn’t be there. And then her hands landed on the one that was hers. Gripping it to her heart, we started back to our room, and walked in silence for awhile, as her relief settled in.

Remember, I said, whenever we are brave enough to take action on our own behalf, to do the hard work of becoming our most authentic self, and to step more fully into our own lives, we are supported by unseen forces. And when you find yourself afraid in the future, and you will, you will always have the memory of tonight to remind you that you are not alone.

Onward.

Together. 

Todays post shared with gratitude for the permission to tell her story, and her courage to always show up.

Begetting

This morning I woke up to messages from two dear friends, each of whom had done something  incredibly courageous.

As a result, I am inspired to be more courageous.

Courage begets courage

Yesterday I had the sacred privilege of witnessing, up close and personal, two acts of vulnerability.

As a result, I am inspired to be more vulnerable.

Vulnerability begets vulnerability.

This past weekend I was able to provide a safe space for a group of women, many of whom did not know one another, to risk connection and truth telling.

As a result, I am inspired to seek more connection, and speak more truth.

Connection and truth beget connection and truth.

This morning I had the opportunity to see what grace under fire looks like as someone moves forward with love and integrity, in spite of the odds.

As a result, I am inspired to act with more grace, love, and integrity, no matter the odds.

Grace, love, and integrity beget grace, love ,and integrity.

Onward.

Together.

Crossing The Ditch

Today Gracie-the-chocolate-labradoodle and I wandered over to the irrigation ditch behind our house. We are working to expose her to new experiences, while also trusting her sense of timing in exploring each new encounter that is just beyond her comfort zone. Rather than push or rush her, or try to solve her problems for her, we simply invite her to explore the wilderness on the other side of her confidence threshold.

It was a gorgeous sunny day, and once at the ditch, I gave her plenty of leeway on her leash, but not so much that she could turn tail and run from the challenge before her. The bank is grass covered and a bit steep, so I went first. Stepping into the water, I simply stood there and let her get her bearings. She was clearly cautious and curious all at the same time, but curiosity eventually won out. Offering her a treat that coaxed her a few inches closer, she nervously snatched it up, dipped one foot into the water, didn’t like the feeling, and retreated. But not quite as far away as before.

Climbing up the other bank, I continued to leave enough slack in the leash for her to explore her surroundings but not escape. The distance between us was still a bit too far for her, so I returned back into the water, this time holding the treat a bit farther away. Grabbing it, she made a mad dash back up the bank, but by then I was standing on the other side again, with a firm hold on the leash.

Making her way down the bank one more time, she was obviously gauging the distance across the ditch. Clearly, she wanted to get to the other side, she just didn’t want to get her oversized puppy feet wet. Suddenly, with a daring leap, she cleared it, her feet never touching the water.

Go Gracie!

We strolled along the path heading back to the house, still on the far side of the ditch, which meant she had another little stretch of water to negotiate. Finding a new place to cross, we repeated the same basic process, only much quicker as a result of her growing confidence. Wanting to see if she had it in her to stretch herself even further, I continued to step from one side to the other, inviting her to follow. By the end, of our outing, she was splashing her way right through that water to the other side of the ditch.

Go Gracie!

Anytime we challenge ourselves to “cross the ditch”, to stretch the boundaries that have become comfortable and familiar, we are a lot like Gracie.

We don’t like being pushed or rushed as we explore the wilderness on the other side of our confidence threshold.

We need enough room to navigate but not run away from a new challenge.

We need time to get our bearings.

We will probably feel cautious and curious all at once, but given a little time, curiosity has a chance to win out.

We might not like the feeling when we first dip our toe into new water.

We may find ourselves taking a sudden daring leap to the other side, but still not get our feet wet.

And, if we stretch ourselves just a little further, we will eventually find ourselves splashing our way straight through the water to the other side of the ditch.

Go us!

Whose Side Of The Fence?

Whenever we are in a relationship, there are times when there is work that needs to be done, and that work falls into three categories: yours, mine, and ours. A healthier order would be mine, yours, and ours, because when looking at the health and dynamics of our relationships, it’s best to start within.

Good questions to ask ourselves might be:

How have I contributed to the current state of this marriage/partnership/family dynamic/professional relationship/friendship/whatevership?

What am I doing to build or undermine trust and respect?

What do I need to communicate to the other person?

Do I need to seek forgiveness?

Have I clearly stated my needs?

Do I need to seek professional help to find my way to a healthier me?

What is mine to do?

What is on my side of the fence?

Starting there is always a win/win deal. No matter what the outcome of our own work, when done with curiosity, humility, courage, and integrity, we come out the side more fully formed as the person we are meant to be.

All that being said, not everything falls on our side of the fence. It is up to others to show up too, and hopefully they will. Sometimes that means doing their own work, and other times it means that we swing our gates open wide and inhabit the field of relationship building together.

Just Don't Do It

One of the best things I’ve heard in a long time…

Full Disclosure?

A therapist I worked with gave me some good advice at the end of one of our sessions. We had delved into some aspect of my life that day, resulting in new insights and a commitment to making some specific changes. It had been a powerful time, as it usually is when we decide to show up and do our inner work, and we were both pleased with what had transpired.

After getting another session on the calendar and writing her a check, as I was getting ready to walk out the door, I told her that I was looking forward to going home and sharing with my family what I had discovered, and what I planned to do differently as a result. Doing so felt like the courageous thing to do. Go Me!

Thinking that she would support my good intentions, I was caught off guard when she very firmly said, “Absolutely do not do that! Don’t talk about what you learned. Apply what you learned. Don’t tell them what you’re going to do. Show them what you did.”

She wasn’t saying never talk about it. Just don’t talk about it now. She wasn’t saying hide it from them. Just let them see it for themselves.

Sometimes talk is cheap, but doing the work is always priceless.

Catch And Release

This morning, as I was reading Walking A Sacred Path: Rediscovering the Labyrinth as a Spiritual Tool by Dr. Lauren Artress, I came across a sentence that made me pause. I read it again, slowly, taking in the words along with a slow deep breath. Exhaling, I felt a sense of deep appreciation for the truth contained in just one short sentence. I read it again, more slowly this time, breathing in the words, and exhaling them as an intention and a prayer.

“The mind needs release from itself in order to find peace, and wisdom.”

There are times when I find myself completely stuck in my head, captivated by my stories. The ones I tell myself about how things are, have been, might be, will be, should be, could be. The trouble with our internal stories is that we tend to believe them, and they often lead to inner angst and outer actions that take us further away from ourselves and who we want to be in the world. I am finding that the sooner I catch myself caught up in an old story, the sooner I am able to release it, making space for peace and wisdom to find their way back in.

When I was in Nashville a couple of weeks ago for work, I was working with a room full of educators committed to advancing STEM Education for Girls. To a person they were intelligent, articulate, accomplished, and highly educated. I was there to facilitate a day that allowed them to connect and think well together. To create a safe space for courageous thinking. That’s what I do, and I am really, really good at it.

Each person was asked to come prepared to share their own story of how they came to their passion for, and commitment to STEM. Periodically throughout the day, we would pause and turn our attention to the front of the room, and listen generously to the next story teller. In order to create that safe space for courageous thinking it is important for me to quickly establish credibility and earn people’s trust, and to do that, I work to be authentic and vulnerable from the start. To that end, I chose to go first, sharing an especially personal story from my college days, when I was advised by my dad “not to appear too smart, so as not to intimidate the men in the class.” I went on to tell how that statement sent me on a long detour away from myself and my belief in my own intelligence and capabilities, and, how I eventually found my way back.

I’ve told that story many times over the years, and it can feel like those words are nothing but a distant memory, no longer holding sway over my mind. At the end of the day however, one of the educators came up to thank me. She shook my hand, holding onto it as she looked deeply into my eyes and expressed her gratitude, telling me that I was very, very good at what I do. Before I could even begin to appreciate her acknowledgement of my contribution to the day, I was gripped by the thought that she must have been trying to make me feel good about myself as a result of the story I had shared. And just like that, I was back in college, questioning my abilities and my intelligence.

Catch and release.

Thankfully, I saw the old story take over, and just as quickly, put it back in its rightful place. A piece of my history, that has no relevance to the person I am today, and the contribution I bring to the world.

We may never be completely free of our old stories, but we no longer have to believe them.

Catch and release.

ATG Photography

The Hose We Step On

 “Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If, in our heart, we still cling to anything – anger, anxiety, or possessions – we cannot be free.” Thich Nhat Hanh

If you are anything like me, it is so very easy to get in our own way.  To hang on too tightly. To listen to the voice of fear, and then choose to believe it. To project ourselves into the worst case scenario, and then proceed to live there. Or, as my favorite (ok, my only) brother-in-law irreverently and succinctly puts it, we step on our own hose.  

All of these self-protective maneuvers do one thing, and one thing only. They stop us in our tracks. Hunkered down in our self-made bunkers, imprisoned in the midst of our fear, uncertainty, and desire for control, we forget that we hold the keys to our own freedom. But we are clinging so tightly to our imagined control that our hands aren’t free to grasp them.  

When stuck in our own muck, as my favorite (ok, my one and only) sister says, it’s time to make friends with the truth. It’s time to take stock of exactly where we are, and exactly what we have to work with. Armed with the truth, even if we don’t like it, we can begin to cast our eyes to the necessary road ahead, and as we envision the light at the end of our tunnel, it becomes the beacon towards which we walk. One step at a time, taken as quickly as we can manage and with as much courage as we can muster, we create momentum in the right direction. Add to that a  few trusted souls in our camp, and we are on our way.

The antidote to fear is the truth, and the truth sets us free to take action.

It’s as simple as that, and as hard as it gets.  

Onward. 

Upward. 

Together. 

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.