Believing Our Ears

When I was in college, a good way to clear my head and get reenergized for a long night of studying was to go for a nice long afternoon run. A favorite route was the trail that snaked its way around the edges of the par-3 golf course on campus.

There was one particular run, that I almost didn’t take, but am so glad that I did.

Living off campus in an apartment, I threw on my running clothes, hopped into my white 65 Mustang, and headed for the golf course. On the way there it started to rain, and by the time I parked the car, it was raining even harder.

Or so it sounded on the metal roof of my car.

The rain hitting that metal roof sounded like a torrential downpour. While not a fair-weather runner by any means, which one can’t be if one lives in the Pacific Northwest, the longer I sat there, the more reasons I came up with not to get out of the car. It would be too cold, too wet, too muddy on the course, and too much bother to deal with my wet running clothes back in our apartment with no washer and dryer. Not only that, it was raining even harder.

Or so it sounded on the metal roof of my car.

Just about to put the key in the ignition and head back home, I suddenly thought of all the reasons to get out of the car. After every run, I always felt better, and logging those three-miles left me with energy, clarity, and a more positive outlook. While I didn’t give in and start the car, I didn’t get out of it either, and, it was raining even harder.

Or so it sounded on the metal roof of my car.

I sat there for a few more minutes, pondering my dilemma. To run, or not to run? Before I could change my mind, I grabbed the door handle, stepped out of the car, and immediately found that the rain that sounded like a downpour was actually just a gentle spring rain. Cool and invigorating, the conditions were perfect for a run.

45 years later, I still remember the feel of the rain on my face, the good endorphins that come when we move our bodies, and, how glad I was that I didn’t let the sound of the rain, on the metal roof of my car, keep me from hitting the trail.

Sometimes it’s good not to believe our ears.

image: mustang dreams.com

Mirror Mirror

“Our deepest calling is to grow into our own authentic self-hood, whether or not it conforms to some image of who we ought to be. As we do so, we will not only find the joy that every human being seeks--we will also find our path of authentic service in the world.” 
― Parker Palmer

When we look in the mirror, who do we see?

Do we recognize the image looking back at us?

Does our outside match our inside?

If not, what do we need to do to uncover or reclaim our own authentic self-hood, so that we can walk our path of authentic service in the world?

It is our deepest calling.

Let’s answer it.

Write here…

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

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.

Intention

 “May I have the courage today

To live the life that I would love...”

(From To Bless the Space Between Us by John O’Donohue)  

The phrase “set your intention” gets thrown around enough that it can start to sound a little airy-fairy. A nice idea for those mindfulness gurus and meditators, but not very practical for the rest of us. Something to think about when away on a weekend yoga retreat, but not in the middle of our very full, and usually overcommitted lives.

I beg to differ. 

Today is my last day in Nashville, and before flying out tomorrow, my colleague and I had some important work to finish. There was enough pressure to get the necessary work done that it was tempting to just jump in and power through the list. However, we are also dear friends and wanted to wrap up our week together in a thoughtful way. Over coffee I suggested that we project ourselves to the end of the day and describe what we needed to accomplish to conclude our work, and equally important, how we wanted to feel when our time together came to a close. If that sounds strangely like that airy-fairy concept of setting our intention, you’re absolutely right.

Our answers came in short order. There were three specific work items to complete by the end of the day, and, we wanted to have a feeling of ease, space, and grace when we arrived there.

Long story short, we hit our mark.

Actually, both of them. The stuff we needed to get done, and the way we wanted to feel. 

It is easy for a day to get away from us. If not careful, before we know it, we’ve dragged ourselves across the finish line of another day, and while we know we were able to check the requisite things off of our list, that doesn’t necessarily equate to having had the kind of day we wanted or needed.

When we ask ourselves what we want to accomplish by the end of the day, and equally important, how we want to feel when we get there, we have a much better chance of hitting our mark.

Actually, both of them. 

If that sounds strangely like that airy-fairy concept of setting our intentions, you’re absolutely right.  

This is how I want to feel at the end of any day.