Stoking The Fire

“Ideas are driven by a single impulse: to be made manifest.”

Elizabeth Gilbert, Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear

Taking down the Christmas tree is always the final act to close out another year. It, even more than New Year’s Eve, is my signal that it is officially out with the old, and in with the new. By the time we had the tree down and out on the porch it was almost ten o’clock at night. But our neighbor had a burn pile going, and the stars were out, so what the heck. Why not just drag it across the field and throw it on the fire? Each grabbing a branch we pulled the tree across the winter ground and heaved it onto the flames. It caught immediately, the needles and branches quickly burning away until all that was left was the trunk, which would succumb soon enough. We watched, mesmerized, as the sparks flew skyward in celebration.

It was official. The old year was burned away, sparking a new one, full of possibilities and opportunities. 

What ideas are capturing our imaginations?

What might we bring forth in this new year?

Who might we become?

What might we contribute?

These early days are kindling for the fire of this brand new year. Let’s keep it stoked.

Stewardship

A month before Tom retired this past June, we booked an Airbnb for three days at the Oregon Coast for what we came to call our Pre-Retirement Summit. The first morning we pulled our chairs out onto the deck, and French Press coffee in hand, settled in to capture our individual and shared vision for our future. It was time to chart a new course.

Summit: Day One

About midway through that first day, looking back over what we’d heard from one another, It became clear that what we were really talking about was stewardship. In the time we have left on the planet, how do we want to care for and make meaningful use of who we are, what we have to offer, and the various resources at our disposal? It seems to me a good question to ask periodically at any point in life, and for us it was a great exercise, as it always is, to carve out time to look at the bigger picture.

As this new year begins, we are working to be mindful of the priorities established and the commitments made at our little beach getaway, but it is hard work. It would be much easier to just allow the days to unfold as they will, do what is right in front of us, and allow being productive to substitute for being purposeful. But that is not stewardship, which is the only thing that will help us stay our course.

Beach Sunset

Light For Dark Times

Years ago my dear friend Kristine and I were to lead a weekend retreat in the wine country of Northern California. The event fell through at the last minute, but the retreat we’d planned is still in my files. Today I pulled it up and revisited the message we had hoped to give all those years ago.

The words below, from Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes, were ones we were going to read aloud on the last day, but we never got the chance.

I invite you to read them aloud today to all who would listen.

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My friends…do not lose heart. We were made for these times. I have heard from so many recently who are deeply and properly bewildered. They are concerned about the state of affairs in our world now. Ours is a time of almost daily astonishment and often righteous rage over the latest degradations of what matters most to civilized, visionary people. 

In any dark time, there is a tendency to veer toward fainting over how much is wrong or un-mended in the world. Do not focus on that. There is a tendency, too, to fall into being weakened by dwelling on what is outside your reach, by what cannot yet be. Do not focus there. That is spending the wind without raising the sails. We are needed, that is all we can know. And though we meet resistance, we more so will meet great souls who will hail us, love us and guide us, and we will know them when they appear. Didn't you say you were a believer? Didn't you say you pledged to listen to a voice greater? Didn't you ask for grace? Don't you remember that to be in grace means to submit to the voice greater?

Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach. Any small, calm thing that one soul can do to help another soul, to assist some portion of this poor suffering world, will help immensely. It is not given to us to know which acts or by whom, will cause the critical mass to tip toward an enduring good. What is needed for dramatic change is an accumulation of acts, adding, adding to, adding more, and continuing. We know that it does not take everyone on Earth to bring justice and peace, but only a small, determined group who will not give up during the first, second, or hundredth gale. 

One of the most calming and powerful actions you can do to intervene in a stormy world is to stand up and show your soul. Soul on deck shines like gold in dark times. The light of the soul throws sparks, can send up flares, builds signal fires, causes proper matters to catch fire. To display the lantern of soul in shadowy times like these—to be fierce and to show mercy toward others; both are acts of immense bravery and greatest necessity. Struggling souls catch light from other souls who are fully lit and willing to show it. If you would help to calm the tumult, this is one of the strongest things you can do.

Photo: Tom Pierson



True North

There are such things as magnetic moments. Times when we sense an inner pull, an invitation to step more fully into our lives, calling us to our own true north, that unique, authentic, wholehearted life that is ours, and only ours, to live. 

Magnetic moments ask us to step over the threshold of uncertainty and fear, cross over the border of the familiar and the comfortable, and venture into the unknown. Marking both the ending of what has been, and the beginning of what could be, it is the threshold that bridges the gap. Sometimes that threshold sits beneath a door that opens inward, drawing us deeper into self-knowledge and awareness. This usually requires that we find the courage to look into our shadows, those parts of ourselves that we prefer to ignore or keep hidden, or those issues and relationships that call for our attention, but are painful, or scary to look at. Other times we are invited to venture further out, beyond the boundaries we’ve come to count on. Taking risks, embarking on new work, making important changes, practicing new ways of being in the world.

In case, like me, you didn’t know this, there is a difference between magnetic north and true north. A compass automatically points to magnetic north, which shifts over time, while true north does not change. In order to find true north a compass must be adjusted. Magnetic moments are an alert to adjust our inner compass. In the world of auto-correct, adjustments happen automatically on our devices, but not so in our own lives. Recognizing that magnetic pull, we adjust our inner compass to make sure it is aligned with who we are and what we care about. This adjustment doesn’t keep us safe…It keeps us true.

Magnetic moments are game changers, and the choice is always ours to step over that threshold.

Or not.

Either way the game changes.

This first day of the new year is a chance to adjust our inner compass, allowing it to help us make any necessary course corrections so as to step boldly towards true north. The life that is ours, and only ours, to live. This adjustment won’t keep us safe…it will keep us true.

First light of the first day of a new year.

This Is The Day

This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.

Psalm 118:24

The alarm went off at 5AM this morning. Opening my still sleepy eyes, this was the image that greeted me through our window.

The first words that came to mind were those of the writer of the words from the book of Psalms quoted above. Grabbing my phone I stepped out into the cold early morning air, the frozen grass crunching beneath my feet, and captured the image of the moon as it set, ushering in the morning of a new day.

Walking back into the house it dawned on me, again, that this day, like every day, is a gift. It is the day that has been given to us, and it is the day in which we can choose to rejoice.

Or not.

The Psalmist doesn't say, “Tomorrow is the day” or “Someday, or another day, or yesterday” She (or he for that matter) says, “This is the day”. He (or she for that matter) doesn’t say, “We are rejoicing” or “We should rejoice” or “We might, could, must, or will try to rejoice.” The Psalmist says, “We will rejoice and be glad in it.”

Rejoicing is a choice. A commitment to find a way to be glad in this day which has been given to us. It is the only one we have. The day before is gone, and the day ahead not promised. It is only this day in which we can choose to rejoice.

Or not.

As I look around the world that is within my reach (and don’t even get me started on the world at large), on any given day there is at least as much heartache as there is happiness, as much pain as there is peace, and as many problems as there are solutions. It is in the midst of the complexity of our very human lives that we are called to rejoice.

This is the day that has been given to us.

Will we rejoice in it?

Or not?

The choice is ours.

#dailydoseofhope

To HOPE is to be in a confident state of anticipation and expectation.

Hope can mean different things to different people. For me, it is to set an intention to look for good things to occur, to believe that goodness is always an option, and that in the long run, goodness will prevail, despite evidence to the contrary.

Hope is both a choice and a practice, and In order to keep hope alive, we need to look for it, foster it, and participate in it.

Every day.

For example:

Gracie, our 8 week old chocolate labradoodle, has accepted us as her family. After only four days here, she feels safe and secure in her new home, invites us to play with abandon, and is sleeping peacefully in her crate, which means we are sleeping too. Because of Gracie, I am filled with hope for what family, trust, play, and a good night of sleep can do

This morning my good friend David Berry gave me a shout out in his daily blog. He included a link to a piece I’d written, referred to me as his friend and thought partner, and then, using my words as a jumping off place, offered his own piece that is both beautiful and profoundly practical. Because of David, I am filled with hope for what collaboration, friendship, a passion for doing good work, and offering our gifts to the world can do.

I heard James Doty, neurosurgeon, tell Krista Tippet (On Being) that he believes we are at the beginning of the Age of Compassion. If that possibility isn’t a dose of hope, I don’t know what is. His book, Into the Magic Shop: A Neurosurgeon’s Quest to Discover the Mysteries of the Brain and the Secrets of the Heart arrived today, and I can’t wait to dive in. Because of Dr. Doty, I am filled with hope for what compassion, new discoveries in neurosurgery, and the magic that happens when head and heart are connected can do

My husband turned 71 today, and he can run circles around men many years younger. After 25 years together, there isn’t a person on the planet that I’d rather spend my time with. He chooses to show up for life and our marriage every day every day. Because of Tom, I am filled with hope for what commitment, love, and an exuberance for life can do.

And, then of course, there’s Nate Burleson. An American football commentator and former WR in the NFL, he talks in this clip about why he believes the Seattle Seahawks are going to make it into the playoffs. My team had an especially slow start this season, but they are on a roll now. Because of Nate’s confidence in the Hawks, I am filled with hope for what determination, grit, brotherhood, and a unique coaching philosophy can do. Go Hawks!

Like exercise and taking your vitamins, make sure and get your #dailydoseofhope

Working For Hope

“Don’t wait for good things to happen to you. If you go out and make some good things happen, you will fill the world with hope, you will fill yourself with hope.”

~ Barack Obama

Hope is not static.

It is a noun that names a state of expectancy and anticipation, and, it is a verb that describes an active expectation and anticipation for a treasured outcome. Hope is a two-step process.

Step one is gaining clarity on a treasured outcome. The more clear the desired outcome, the stronger the state of expectancy and anticipation as we wait for our hopes to be fulfilled.

Do you want to write a book? Create a more fulfilling life? Stand on a stage and move an audience? Make a ton of money? Help heal the earth? Climb a mountain?

Step one only gets us so far.

Step two is doing something about attaining what we hope for.

Books get written by those who write. A fulfilling life might mean letting go of what and who no longer fit, in order to fit in what and who just might. The stage door opens for those with a compelling message. People will pay big money for what they deem valuable. The smallest right actions helps to restore the planet. Summiting a mountain starts with summiting a hill.

Sometimes hope looks like waiting and working your ass off all at the same time.

Walk This Way?

At the airport I almost always take the old-fashioned route to the gate. In other words, I walk under my own power rather than hopping on the moving walkway. Part of the reason is admittedly to get a bit more exercise, but it also scratches my itch to exercise my own free will.

It is so easy to fall in line with the crowd, to allow someone, or in this case, something, to dictate how to get from here to there. To take the expected route. To let the majority rule on how we do what. To allow group think to crowd out our own good thoughts.

Three of our daughters were married over the course of four years, and if ever there was a temptation to jump on to a moving walkway, that was it. Thankfully, we didn’t. Once we were done celebrating the news of each engagement, we engaged in a conversation about how to go about planning the wedding. Our way.  We actually talked about how we are the kind of family that walks to the airline gate rather than jumping on the walkway. While both end up at the same destination, the trip from here to there makes all the difference.

The weddings were spectacular, each in their own way, just like our daughters, and getting there was like a choose-your-own-adventure book. Weddings are but one example of the moving walkways that tempt us to jump on and take someone else’s ride. Does everyone need to go to college? Is choosing a life without children really less fulfilling or meaningful? Does your baby need to meet each milestone at the right time in order to be on the right developmental tract? Does patriotism have to mean standing for the anthem? If you don’t buy a house are you destined to miss the American Dream?

The next time we are tempted to step onto the moving walkway, let’s consider what we might miss by not making our own way there.  

Photo: NicoElNino, Shutterstock

The Baby & The Bath Water

Our church is currently without a pastor, and as we search for the next one, each Sunday different members of our congregation take on the responsibility for giving the reflection (aka, the sermon). It is a wonderful practice, allowing us to learn more about each other, and be inspired by one another’s stories.

This morning a dear friend stepped up to the pulpit and shared the story of the people and experiences that have helped shape her faith into what it is today. While she spoke of several significant relationships, the one that struck me the most was the influence of her mother. As it turns out, their relationship was complicated and painful. What made the story so powerful was that while she has had to live with and acknowledge the hurtful and hard parts, she has also chosen to honor and appreciate the significant and positive ways her mom influenced the faith she so values today.

Most of us are a mixed bag, and most of the time we are doing the best we can with what we’ve got to work with. However, when it comes to relationships that are different from how we wish them to be, especially one as significant as that between a daughter and a mother, it is easy to focus only on the negative and painful. My friend was able to sort out her mother’s mixed bag separating the good from the not-so-good, the wheat from the chaff, the gifts from the trash.

We can be quick to throw the out the baby with the bathwater. The story shared today was a grace-filled reminder that we don’t have to.

Prop The Door Open

“To realize one’s destiny is a person’s only obligation.”

~ from The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho

This morning as I was working out in the little gym in town, I opened the door to let in the  gorgeous view of the fall colors in the distance, some fresh autumn air, and a little more light. I was facing the door while lifting some weights, when a slight breeze picked up outside, and the door slowly and quietly began to shut. It stopped about two-thirds of the way, leaving only a third of the view, fresh air, and light.

I’d forgotten to prop it open with a rock.

It is safe to say that while I am squarely in the third-third of my life, there is still a lot out there that is mine to do. More words to write, more retreats to lead, more stages from which to speak, more clients to coach, more work on which to collaborate, more adventures with the love of my life, more time with the “littles” in our family, more time with those I love, and, more to discover every step of the way.

In order to make good on what is still mine to do, I have to keep the door to whatever that is open.

So do you.

An open door keeps our vision in front of us, breathes fresh air into our work, and shines light on our steps. But the door won’t stay open of its own accord. We have to prop it open with our rock-solid commitment to pursuing the good work to which we are called, the authentic, whole-hearted lives that we are here to live, and the people whose hearts we are here to love and to touch.

The door to the life that is ours can begin to close, ever so slowly and quietly, if we don’t remember to prop it open with a rock.