Being Brave

“Here’s a secret that not many people know. Fear and bravery are partners. You can’t be brave without first being afraid.”

— From A Boy Like You by Frank Murphy

There is no accounting for fear.

The tiniest of things can trigger the biggest of fears. Take a spider for instance.

For reasons beyond reason, one of these eight-legged arachnids flood my otherwise fierce daughter with the kind of fear that once landed her on her kitchen counter for three hours as she waited for her boyfriend to return home and hunt down the long gone culprit.

That was years ago.

Fast forward to this morning. Her dad and I were sitting on the porch with our coffee when she tried to reach us on FaceTime. I didn’t answer, thinking I would call back in a little while. When a phone call immediately followed, my spidey sense kicked in and I picked up. A Black Widow spider was crawling up the side of her kitchen counter. Blinded by fear, she couldn’t see the forest for the trees. That same boyfriend is now her husband, and it has always been his job to deal with the inevitable spider. A tough situation when he is gone on a business trip. I mean a girl can only stay on a kitchen counter for so long.

Her: (Shaking) There’s a Black Widow climbing up the side of the counter and I don’t know what to do.

Me: Get a roll of pater towels. The whole roll.

Her: (Shaking) I don’t think I can do it.

Me: Yes. You can.

Her: (Still shaking) OK

Me: Get close to it, and smash it with the roll of paper towels.

Her: (Still shaking) OK…It’s done.

As those words came out of her mouth standing in her kitchen a hundred miles away, a herd of elk burst out of the pine woods and across our snow covered field. Heads held high, their steamy breath creating little clouds in the air, we’ve been waiting for a rare closeup glimpse of them all winter. They chose that precise moment to show up. The moment when her seedling of courage burst out of an old-growth fear.

Her: (No longer shaking) I did it!

This is a fear that has gripped her for years. This morning she loosened its grasp and will never be the same again. That’s what happens when we choose to be brave. Sometimes a herd of elk even shows up to celebrate.

Whose Business Is It?

The day I created #ThePostcardProject, I felt excited and hopeful. Energized, I got to work bringing what felt like an inspired idea to life.

The day I decided to launch #ThePostcardProject, I started to feel silly and uncertain, anxious and afraid, self-conscious and small.

What if nobody thought it was a good idea?

What if no one else got on board, and I was the only one to actually do it?

What if #ThePostcardProject never got any traction? Never went anywhere? Never got noticed?

The more I marinated in those familiar feelings that show up whenever it’s time to actually put something I’ve created into the world, the more stymied I became. It was just about then that God leaned in close and whispered, “That’s none of your business Molly.” In other words, all I had to do was get about my business.

Byron Katie reminds us that there are only three kinds of business in the world—my business, your business, and God’s business. Bringing an idea to life and sharing it with the world is my business. What anyone else does with that idea is their business. And where it goes from here, is God’s business.

We never know what will happen when we offer something to the world. That’s none our business. Offering what we have to share is.

Do you have an idea waiting to come to life?

Then please, get about your business.

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

No More Kicking Cans

to kick the can down the road:

put off confronting a difficult issue or making an important decision, typically on a continuing basis

Recently, but prior to George Floyd’s death, these two sentences came to mind.

No more kicking cans down the road. There is no more road left.

With those words came an image. An accumulation of cans piled up against a barrier. Each can had a word on it that identified one of those difficult issues and important decisions that have persistently been put off. Cans that we have continued to kick down the road. I could see the cans. It took longer for the barrier that stopped them to come into view. Was it a brick wall? One of those concrete barriers you see on the New Jersey turnpike? Or maybe, the gates around the White House?

Squinting my inner eyes, I finally saw it. The barrier was the Earth herself, drops of sweat on her weary brow from the effects of climate change, wearing a mask like the ones we wear to protect one another from spreading COVID-19. The global pandemic has exposed this pile of cans for what it is. The accumulation of years of unwillingness to do the right thing, take the long view, and reckon with our own tendencies to look out for me and mine, while looking away from them and theirs.

Then George Floyd was murdered.

He pleaded with the man with the knee on his neck, telling him repeatedly, that he couldn’t breathe. He pleaded until he ran out of air. And then he was dead.

The Earth, against which all of those cans have been kicked, is telling us that she can’t breathe.

Words alone wouldn’t communicate what I was thinking and feeling, and while I might have a bit of a way with words, not so much with colored pens and pencils. That’s when I called my friend Willa. A sophomore in high school with a heart that is deep and wide, Willa has a keen intellect, and a grasp of the world far beyond her years. I want to be like Willa when I grow up.

I asked if she would consider drawing something to capture what I had seen in my mind’s eye.

She would.

And she did.

Except not exactly.

She took what I said, filtered it through her own lens, and came up with something so much better. Something more powerful, and disturbingly accurate—the Earth in full protest. Willa saw what I couldn’t. The cans are not heaped in a pile waiting to be picked up. It’s too late for that. They’ve all ruptured. Their contents have spilled out all over everything, and we have to deal with the mess we have made of the world. Starting with the racism that has been laid bare. In my mind, racism has been its own separate issue. That’s because I am white. To anyone who is not white, the impacts of racism are felt within the context of every other issue filling the skies above the protesting Earth. Yes, white people are impacted by these issues too. But not simply because they are white.

No more kicking cans down the road. There is no more road left.

Earth is calling us to action. To not only take to the streets in protest against what is wrong, but to lace up our shoes and get to work for what is right.

Look at her.

Feet firmly planted, her fists raised in defiance, she is simply not going to take it any more.

We can’t either.

With gratitude to Willa McLaughlin

A Molten Moment

Nobody is going to make this easy for us once on the other side of this life-altering time when things will supposedly return to normal. Except they won’t, or at least they don’t have to. Not if normal means how things were before, not the possibility of what they can be in the future

Living under conditions that separate us from one another, we remember that we are all connected, and that our individual survival is hardwired with that of the collective.

As the price of oil plummets, we can almost hear the sound of Earth catching her breath. The absence of noise reminds us to listen the deep quiet beneath it all.

Living as we are, under our own microscopes, everything about us is magnified. On any given day, the best of us might make her presence know, or be completely overshadowed by the worst, Most days it is a dance between the two, and the invitation at our feet is to learn to let the better angels of our nature take the lead.

We are discovering just how little we really need, and how much we don’t.

We are remembering what it means to be neighbors again. As we care for one another the world becomes a safer place, and while tribalism might have kept us alive in the past, it will do nothing but insure our demise in the future.

The powers that be are going to work mightily to persuade us to forget the hard-earned wisdom that we belong to one another and are indeed one another’s keepers including the care for this fragile planet we all call home.

This is a molten moment.

We have the chance to be changed for the greater good, and our calling is to remember what we are learning in the here and now once we step back out into our shared world of the there and then.

No matter what anyone tells us, and I mean anyone, things will not return to normal. At least that is my deepest hope and my most fervent prayer.

Photo: USGS

Make A Mess

Embrace the glorious mess that you are.

~ Elizabeth Gilbert

“Don’t make a mess.”

How often did I hear that as a child growing up? How often did I say that to my own kids? From an early age most of us are programed to believe that making a mess is wrong. That if we mess up we will disappoint others.

Making a mess is essence of creativity.

Making a mess is at the heart of every worthwhile endeavor.

Making a mess is how we sort things out.

Making a mess is how we make a life.

Relationships are messy.

We are messy.

Life is messy.

So go ahead, make a mess.

Photo: Beanpole Pottery

Time's A Wastin'

Ideas are driven by a single impulse: to be made manifest. And the only way an idea can be made manifest in our world is through collaboration with a human partner. It is only through a human’s efforts that an idea can be escorted out of the ether and into the realm of the actual.

~ Elizabeth Gilbert: Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear

For the past year, or more if I’m being completely honest, several ideas have diligently knocked on my inner doorstep. I’ve tried to ignore them, have pretended no one was at home, and peeked through the shutters to see if they are still there. They are, and I’ve yet to invite them in. If not careful, one day I will check on them only to find that they have moved on, my resolve to finally collaborate with them regretfully too little and too late.

I know the power of an idea that suddenly strikes, and the magic that happens when we accept its invitation. Shit gets done. People’s lives are touched, usually none more than ours, and we have the chance to share our gifts with the world. And yet, acting on an idea when it makes itself known continues to be a growing edge. I’ve learned first hand the energy, courage, and grit required to see an idea through, and the regret that will haunt me if I don’t.

As Joaquin and Reese crooned in Walk The Line, time’s a wastin’, and with only 25 more days left in the year I’ve decided to throw open the door, invite those ideas in, and see what kind of trouble we can get into together. I’ll keep you posted.

Any ideas knocking on your door?

Time’s a wastin’.

Photo: Pexels

Yes Or No?

Sometimes it takes more courage to say no than to say yes.

Photo by Matt Hardy from Pexels

Fifteen Minutes

“I have fifteen minutes, and I’d love to spend them with you.” The voice on the other end of the phone belonged to a close friend who was in the midst of his own busy day, and yet was able to find a small window of time for us to connect. A small window was all I needed.

What I was searching for in those fifteen precious minutes was a safe space to say exactly what I wanted to say, unfiltered. I was in need of a place to be heard and seen, and to be able to feel exactly what I was feeling with no attempt made to fix, mollify, or find a silver lining. In that moment there was none to find.

For fifteen minutes he listened, and listened, and listened some more. Safely within the emotional equivalent of a soundproof, padded room, I was able to hear myself speak, and express deep emotions that needed to come out. Those fifteen minutes made it possible to handle the next fifteen. And the next and the next and the next.

We are all in need of safe spaces in which we can show up live and uncensored. Places where we can say what is true in that moment even when what is true is messy, ugly, and broken. It is from there that that we can find our way forward to deal with the mess, discover beauty in our ability to handle what we’ve been handed, and catch a glimpse of how we might put our broken selves back together again. Not put back together as before, but in new ways. Better ways. Stronger, more authentic, and courageous ways. Ways that begin with the gift of fifteen minutes with someone who’d love to spend them with us.

New Shoes

Most pilgrims who walk the Camino de Santiago end their journey at the Santiago de Compostela cathedral, often celebrating the mid-day Pilgrim Mass. Others however continue on to the fishing town of Finisterre. There it has been the custom for many to *burn their hiking shoes as a final act of their pilgrimage.

Those hiking shoes, probably well-worn, have served their purpose, having gotten them to “the end of the world”, and now they will need new shoes to take them wherever their road leads in the future.

Life is a continual act of letting go of what might have once served us, but no longer does. Of burning away the old in order to make way for the new. Of unpacking our bags and taking stock of what we carry, and repacking with the essentials necessary for the next leg of our trip. Of practicing new skills and putting old ones to rest. Of burning our old shoes and breaking in new ones.

Whatever it is that got us here will not get us where we are going.

(*this practice has attracted much criticism due to the obvious environmental impacts and safety implication.)

Photo by Lum3n.com from Pexels